Category Archives: faith

Mar31

A Blind Date

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But not the way you might think…

Some of the dates in my life, or in my family or friends’ lives, are significant for different reasons.  Mama’s birthday on Independence Day, Aunt Martha’s on Cinco de Mayo, Uncle John Bryant’s on Leap Day, all seem to speak to their personality traits and characters.  My friend Paula has had numerous strange and sad events to occur on March 17 in different years.  Over the years some of my Delta Omicron students’ recitals have been on memorable dates as well, such as Friday the 13th, or Halloween.  This year one of those recitals happens tomorrow, and this student will always remember her Senior Recital date.  April Fool’s Day.

April Fool’s Day has significance for me as well, as it is the grant date stamped on my FCC permit.  Back in the Stone Age when I began my career in broadcasting and media, a person had to apply for a permit from the Federal Communications Commission in order to operate a transmitter at a radio or TV station.  Those permits had to be posted in a central location in the station.  The last place mine was posted, it was taped into a binder, and when I removed it, the tape ripped off part of the text on the back side outlining the rules and regulations, and what it was illegal for me as an operator to do on the air with our signal.

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I’ve joked over the years that my April Fool’s FCC permit grant date foretold what my career would hold in store!  The fact is, I had no idea about the journey upon which I was about to embark.  I was flying blind.  I had not gone to school to prepare for a career in radio and television, so I graduated from the “earn-as-you-learn” school of radio on my first job.  And for years, because I hadn’t studied broadcasting in school, I felt like a fraud and secretly feared that the Media Police would eventually discover me and throw me out of the business!

It turns out that my career in broadcasting has yielded me some of my most lasting friendships, taught me valuable skills and spanned nearly 3 decades.  From my first radio job where I played actual vinyl records and my first TV master control position using an antiquated commercial tape sequencer called Digitrol (a nightmare machine with a 9-second pre-roll!), I have seen old technologies fade away and new ones emerge.  Radio and television also seem to attract creative types.  I’ve worked with more writers, poets, artists and musicians than I ever dreamed possible outside of the professional music and art world.

I always tell the young people I work with through Delta Omicron to “have a plan, but be open to surprise”.  Over the years I’ve learned that God takes us where He does, when He does, for a reason.  Had I not been open to surprise—to flying blind—I would have missed my whole career and all the blessings it has brought me.  I am still very actively involved with music and pray that I always will be, as long as God gives me opportunities to serve Him in that way.  But my profession has been elsewhere, at least to this point.  And God has given me chances to serve there as well.  So it’s all good.  I’m still in many ways flying blind…and still very much open to surprise.

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Proverbs 3:5-6 gives wonderful advice.  “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding.  In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct thy paths.”  WhereEVER those paths lead.

 

Mar24

Lost And Found

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And great rejoicing…

I usually wear a ring on my right thumb, and the ring I wear there is usually one that belonged to Mama.  More specifically, there are a couple of her old rings that I take turns wearing on that thumb.  Unfortunately, I often fidget with my ring, rolling it up and down my thumb, and sometimes it slips off entirely.  Several months ago this happened at work, and the ring got lost.

I heard it drop to the floor and roll briefly…then I heard it drop a second time.  The environment I work in has elevated floors to allow for electrical cables to pass underneath, between layers of flooring which are several inches apart.  And in a number of spots there are small access holes for those cables to plug in to the machines we use in our daily work.

When I heard my Mama’s ring drop that second time, my stomach dropped with it.  I scrounged around on the floor on my hands and knees, with a flashlight, scouring every inch of floor in that little room, hoping to find my lost ring.  I even dug into the tiny access hole as far as my hand would reach (which wasn’t very far at all), shining my flashlight into that minuscule space.  No luck.

I gave up hope that it would ever surface again.  I even bought a “replacement” for it on eBay, an ersatz ring that resembled the lost one.  But I knew it was just a poor substitute for the original.  The thing is, it was not a valuable ring in terms of money, really.  Its real value was that it was Mama’s.

We’ve all had similar experiences, haven’t we?  We’ve somehow managed to lose something that we treasured, whether it had any real monetary value or not.  And even if we were able to find another item that looked like the lost one, it was never the same.

Fortunately, my story has a happy ending.  The area in which I lost that ring is currently under demolition/construction as part of a major rebuild happening in my department.  When I learned that the area was going to be demolished I spoke with my managers and told them I had lost a ring in that room, and asked them to alert the construction crew in case it turned up.  One day last week as I ate lunch, one of the construction fellows found me and asked if I was the lady who lost a ring in that room, and I responded that I was.  He held up a slim gold band and asked, “Is this it?”

And my heart soared!  What was lost had been found, and with tears in my eyes I said, “Yes, that’s it!  Thank you so much!  It’s not really worth much, but it was my Mama’s and I am so glad to have it back.”

It reminds me of the Bible stories where something, or someone, is lost for a time and then found and restored to its/his/her right place.  In each story there is great rejoicing when what was lost is found.  I’m grateful to have Mama’s ring back…and it seems fitting that it should be restored to me during Lent, a time when I contemplate Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, a love that restores me to God, no matter how lost I feel.

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Mar9

Forward

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It’s the only direction God gave us…

My car wreck in January brought with it a number of inconveniences and issues.  The biggest of these was, of course, my car being totaled and the urgent need to find a replacement/successor for my DivaMobile.  Compounding the search was my insistence on purchasing another stick shift.  I am relieved to report that we found a worthy successor for Veronica.  Her name is Patsy Cline Clairmont Cutshaw; Cline for the obvious person, and Clairmont for Patsy Clairmont, a favorite author of mine.  The car is a 2011 Subaru Forester wagon/SUV with a 5-speed manual transmission, and with fewer than 40,000 miles.  So basically, she is just starting to get broken-in.  Lord willing and knock wood, we will have a long, happy and SAFE relationship.

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In the car replacement process there were also several conversations with our insurance company.  I am grateful that everyone we dealt with did all they could to make a traumatic situation as stress-free as it could be, from ascertaining the total loss to simplifying the paperwork and getting the settlement check to us as quickly as possible.  Between those funds, our income tax refund and a little bit of savings, we were able to make a decent down payment on Patsy and begin the process of moving forward.

When I wrecked Veronica, lots of stuff got broken, including the watch I was wearing that morning.  It’s not an expensive timepiece by any means, but it has been a favorite of mine for probably 20 years, an easy go-to choice most days.  The actual mechanism of the watch was fine and it continued to run after the accident.  Just the crystal was broken and needed to be replaced.  Getting it fixed was not at the top of the list of priorities in the aftermath so I didn’t get it done right away.

Finally one day a couple of weeks ago, after several calls around town, I found a jeweler with a watchmaker who could fix it for me.  So I went by the jewelry store, got an estimate on the repair, and left it to be fixed.  It didn’t cost much, but it was still probably more than the monetary value of the watch.

I was able to pick up my little watch this past Monday.  What a simple joy to have something back that I had missed so much!  The last tangible thing damaged by the wreck is now made right.

It is not lost on me that replacing a car and fixing a damaged watch both speak of forward movement…the movement of traveling on the road, the forward movement of time.  Sometimes I think what I would be willing to give to make time move the other way…backward to before I wrecked my car, before the people I love started dying, before I learned that the world is not always a fair or beautiful place.  But that is not how it works.

Even when I put my car into reverse, it is for just long enough to get into a position which will allow me to move forward, on to the next place I need to be.  My watch only runs one way and that is forward.  Forward…it’s the only direction God gave us.

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Feb3

R.I.P DivaMobile

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She was more than just a car…

Most people have probably seen the insurance commercial in which a cute girl speaks to the camera, saying “You owned your car for 4 years.  You named it Brad.  You LOVED Brad.  And then you totaled him…”  The script goes on to describe the relationship between the car and its owner.  I can relate to this scenario more strongly since, after nearly 12 years of driving her, I wrecked my beloved DivaMobile.

The sadness of watching her getting towed away was overwhelming.  I cried and then I threw up.  No kidding.  (I think the throwing up had to do partly with my taking antibiotics at the time…but only partly.)

In order to explain my attachment to her, I need to give a bit of backstory.  I found myself in February 2004 needing a replacement for my previous car, which had been rear-ended and totaled in that wreck (which was not nearly as traumatic as this one). Jeff and I looked around and test drove a few, and decided that it made the most sense for us to go ahead and purchase something brand new.  So we bought a new 2004 Honda C-RV.  I named her Veronica, nicknamed The DivaMobile.  She had 153 miles on February 20, 2004 when I took delivery, and the only reason those miles were on her was because the dealership did not have a stick shift in my desired color on the lot.  So mine was driven over from North Carolina.  She was not fancy, but she was silver, shiny, new and all mine, and I loved her from the start.

The DivaMobile carried us on many vacation adventures, including, I believe, our first trip to St. Simons Island.  We took her on several trips there and to Destin, our other favorite vacation spot.  She was my companion on my work commute, to music and volunteer activities, taking our dogs to the vet, and she always had more than enough room for all the gear I carried around with me.  (It is difficult for me to travel light, whether literally or metaphorically.)  She saw the transition when Ernie The Wonder Beagle died and then Our Boy Roy became part of our family, hauling them both when they needed to go to the vet or anywhere else.  Roy always gets excited when I ask, “Do you want to go for a ride?”

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From February 20, 2004 until January 20, 2016, The DivaMobile carried me safely everyplace I needed to go. I spent all of my 40’s with her, and then some.  And with God’s help, she kept me safe in the worst wreck I’ve ever been involved in as either a passenger or a driver.  I walked away from this nightmare with only some bumps, bruises and scratches.  Physically, I am OK.  And I am grateful.

For years  I had a tiny angel on a leather cord hanging from my rear view mirror.  I liked the thought of an angel riding along with me.  I still do.

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Jeff and I don’t trade cars often.  We tend to make long-term commitments, driving them until they die…or in this case, until they are killed.  The DivaMobile and I traveled 154,408 miles together…minus her first 153, that is.  I’m praying my next car relationship is as long and satisfying, just with a happier ending.

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Jan26

Fragile

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When normal stops…

Last Wednesday, January 20, 2016, Knoxville experienced the first real snow of the season.  The prospect of snowfall still brings excitement to the childlike part of me.  The white blanket that shrouds everything, the quiet, the glory of winter’s beauty fills my heart with wonder.

As an adult, however, my excitement is tempered by the fact that, snow or not, I still have to get to work.  Most of us do.  It is a reality I have dealt with for a long time working in the media.  Our world doesn’t stop for snow or for anything else.

I have also long prided myself on being a careful, and fairly competent, snow driver, preaching the principles of safe speeds, proper following distances and plenty of extra time to get where we need to go.  I still believe in all those principles.  Being careful is just common sense.

But despite my best efforts, last Wednesday, I wrecked my beloved DivaMobile anyway.

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It seemed to happen both in accelerated time and in slow motion, all at once.  I was driving through downtown. The interstate did not look like it had been treated with either sand or brine, and lane lines were not clearly visible.  A small pickup truck veered in front of me, too close for my comfort, and in trying to avoid crashing into it, I applied my brakes, slid, spun several times and crashed into a guardrail.  I came to rest on an interstate on-ramp facing the wrong direction.  Had the guardrail not been there to stop me, I would have most likely gone down an embankment and landed on 5th Avenue.

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I am OK, physically.  A few scratches, bumps and bruises, but I’m OK.  And by some miracle, in all this madness, no other vehicles were involved.  I didn’t hit anybody, and nobody hit me, and I never lost consciousness.  After I realized what had actually happened, I found my phone, called 911, then called work and Jeff to tell them I’d had an accident.

Here’s the thing.  Seeing the damage that happened to my car, I realized once more just how fragile life is, how quickly an event can change everything.  I took the day of the wreck and the day after off from work, and on Friday I returned.  In more snow.  And yes, I drove myself, although I had to drive the SweetPeaMobile.  Was I scared?  Absolutely.  Will I be scared for a while?  Most likely.  But for all the fragility of life and how scary things can be, I can’t let fear keep me from doing what I need to do.  I’ll just have to do it afraid for a while, praying and trusting God to protect me and those I love, being as safe as I know how to be and getting on with the business of living and working, finding a new car to try to replace my beloved DivaMobile and looking forward to feeling, eventually, a little less Fragile.

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Jan1

Closing Time

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Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end…(and yes, I stole that line from a song)…

There have been too many goodbyes for me in 2015, too many moments when a door I took for granted slammed shut with no warning.  For that reason, I am sort of glad to see the year come to a close, and I pray that 2016 will be, Lord willing and knock wood, a healthy, happy and peaceful year for me and for all the people I love.  I pray for this…but only God knows what’s coming.

With each friend I’ve had to say goodbye to, a relationship has ended on Earth…but a place is being held for me in Heaven as they await my arrival.  I can see myself, once I’ve settled into Heaven for a bit, sitting with my friend Dave on his front porch, talking about our shared friends in the world of radio and television.  He will have birds as pets there too, creatures he loved so much while he was here.  From there I might stroll over to see Bill, and we’ll sit at his piano,singing together once more, his voice strong and clear, his body healthy and whole in a way we can’t begin to imagine down here.  And sweet Ron, who I knew the longest of the three, will  greet me with a big cup of coffee in his hand, open arms and a smile.  He is the Scarecrow to my Dorothy, sharing with me the most years of my journey here before he left to start his journey There.

Because, as I’ve stated before, just because someone dies, doesn’t mean the love stops, or the relationship ends.  It changes by necessity, but it’s not over.  The ones I have loved are just in a place where I can’t see them right now.

So I bid farewell to 2015, grateful that it is Closing Time. A new year, a few frontier, begins, swinging open a portal of fresh starts. Gracious God, grant peace, good health and happiness to everyone I love.  Draw us closer to each other and closer to You. Amen.

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Dec16

Unnoticed

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What am I missing?…

I like to think of myself as a fairly observant person, most of the time anyway.  Photography is a hobby of mine, and I write this blog in part as a way to share what I observe about the world around me.  But today I was startled—and delighted—by a tiny fragment in a picture that had, until now, gone unnoticed.

I was scrolling through all the photos stored on this little computer (technology continues to amaze me as I can not only take pictures with this device, but also store, organize and edit them!) and I came upon the collection from my nephew Aaron’s wedding in November.  There was a tiny piece of a rainbow visible before the ceremony that I captured (although their professional photographer caught a much more beautiful shot of it).  Among the many pictures I took of the glorious flower arrangements, I took several shots of some floating arrangements in a reflecting pool.

Obviously, when I took the picture I was focusing on the flowers.  Looking at the image today, I realized that that tiny piece of rainbow was reflected in the corner of the pool…until now, unnoticed.  It made me wonder about all the other beautiful things in my life that escape my attention while I’m focusing on one particular thing.

The weeks between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day bring so much activity, busy-ness and even stress sometimes.  In focusing on those things, what beautiful gifts am I missing?  The names of the holidays themselves should remind me what really matters.  Giving Thanks.  Christ.  A New Year.

Lord, thank You for letting me finally see that tiny reflected rainbow.  Thank You for the beauty of my life.  Help me never to let Your gifts go Unnoticed.image

(See it?  It’s in the very tippy-top left hand corner.  No wonder I missed it for so long!)

Nov25

It’s OK…

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…if you’re not OK…

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I understand how hard your year has been, truly.  Mine has had its moments of sadness, frustration, pain and doubts too.  While most people seem to be overjoyed at the prospect of having a long weekend, pigging out on turkey and dressing, ham and mac & cheese, eating, drinking and being merry, you might not be feeling so festive right now.  Neither am I.

And that’s OK.

We can be thankful and still feel sad sometimes.  We can appreciate our blessings while mourning our losses.  In fact, I think the losses sometimes make our blessings seem more precious, because we realize how quickly those blessings can be taken from us.

I had friends die this year, people I loved while they were here and continue to love now that they are in Heaven.  I know people you love have died this year too, and this will be the first Thanksgiving that a loved one’s place at the table will be empty.  You might cry.  I might cry.

And that’s OK too.

I hope that your tears are softened by laughter as you remember your loved one, the good times you shared together and the many Thanksgiving meals you put away.  I hope the hole left in your family circle is closed up a little bit as the rest of you draw closer together to try and fill in that space.  I hope you can take a few minutes to be alone, if you need to…to breathe deeply, to pray and to give thanks even in the midst of sadness.

And I hope you know that no one is expecting you to be perfect, to put out a flawless meal or to re-create that Norman Rockwell fantasy holiday.  Be real with your loved ones.  Tell them if you’re having a hard time.  Share your heart with them.

It’s OK.

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(Me and Aunt Ruby, Thanksgiving 2012.  We had no way of knowing it would be her last Thanksgiving with us.  Now she sits at Jesus’s table, feasting on His goodness and waiting for the rest of us to arrive.)

Nov12

Flight

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There are many ways to fly…

Last week Jeff and I were in Orlando for our nephew’s wedding.  Usually when we take trips we drive, but since Orlando is a longer distance than we often travel, we opted to fly this time.  We are not the most seasoned travelers, and the process of flying in a plane is still something of an adventure, to me at least.  An adventure…and a mystery.

Our whole week there became for me a metaphor about the ways we travel through life, and the ways life travels around us.  Time really does fly.  The nephew who got married, Aaron, was about 3 years old when Jeff and I got married, and now he is a grown man, a doctor, marrying a wife of his own and well-established in his chosen field.

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His older brother and best man, Clark, is Nephew Number One, older by about 3 and 1/2 years than Aaron, successful in his career and life, with a beautiful wife and 2 adorable little boys of his own.  When Jeff and I got married, Clark was told that he could go on our honeymoon with us.  He was a little peeved when he found out he was not going to the beach after all!

How is it possible that these little squirts are all grown up?!  But they are.  And next June, Lord willing and knock wood, Jeff and I will celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary.  Time flies.

While we were in Orlando, we took a little drive over to see Kennedy Space Center.  Talk about the mystery and wonders of flight!  Jeff and I marveled at the sights, exhibits and history there.  He said it may be his favorite day ever as a grown-up.  It was awe-inspiring to see and learn about the history of space travel, and humbling to imagine the courage of the pioneers who took those first brave flights into the unknown reaches of space.

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Back down to Earth, we enjoyed lovely views of lake and sky from our resort condo balcony.  It struck me every day, sometimes from hour to hour, how big and puffy the clouds were there.  I suppose it has something to do with the location and proximity to water, but the cloud formations were unusually beautiful, varying throughout the day.  I spent a good deal of time on our balcony reading one of my favorite little books, “Intra Muros” by Rebecca Ruter Springer.  It describes the author’s vision of Heaven during an extended illness.  The fluffy clouds and Springer’s words made me think of Heaven and the reunions we will enjoy there, in the presence of God and those we love who have gone before us.

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Anyone who knows me (or follows this blog!) knows that I collect feathers.  On our way into the visitor complex at Kennedy Space Center, I found one and tucked it safely inside my purse.  What a treat to remember our trip by.  On our way out of the complex, I found a second one, white and fluffy, much like the clouds I so enjoyed watching during our time away.  How poignant that, after flying on a jet to Aaron’s wedding where he and his new wife will take wing into the future, on our way to see the history of mankind’s efforts to fly into space, God should send me feathers to remind me that He created the birds of the air, giving them the ability to fly, before He ever created Man in His own image.

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Gracious Lord, thank You for your many gifts of Flight—flight of birds and humans to places far away, the flight of time, our flight through life and into the future, and eventually into Heaven.

Oct1

Stoplights And Sticky Notes

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Encounters with God…

Scripture tells us in 1 Thessalonians 5:17, “Pray without ceasing”.  It sounds simple enough…but who among us has ceaseless hours to spend in prayer?  While I do try to spend meaningful chunks of time with God, more often than not, my prayers come in smaller pieces throughout the day.

I believe that God honors whatever time we offer back to Him, wherever we are.  Oftentimes I’ll read a prayer request on social media, and I take a quick moment right then to lift that person and the need up in prayer, and acknowledge that “One just went up,”.  And anytime I think of it, another one will go up.  The social media prayer army is a powerful tool we have to reach a lot of prayer warriors at one time, and I’ve seen many people join together to intercede on a friend’s behalf in this way.  This is technology at its very best.

Sticky notes live in my Bible, reminders of someone I have promised to pray for, situations needing God’s attention and intervention.  It’s not pretty, but it’s a handy way to remember a request until I can write it down someplace more permanent.  For a while, Jeff and I kept a list of prayer needs on the fridge door, because we knew that was the one place where we’d both see them regularly!  I need to reinstate that routine, especially now, when I am praying for so many needs and situations.

Then there are the “stoplight” prayers.  After I began my extended unit of CPE several years ago, I realized in a whole new way how a blaring siren and flashing lights can signal a life being changed, or ended, often in the blink of an eye.  Anytime I see or hear an emergency vehicle, I say a quick prayer for everyone involved in whatever that crisis or situation is, including the chaplain who is likely to catch that call and help in tending to wounds both seen and unseen.

All of these are little ways I can care for the people around me, the ones I know and love, and the ones I will never even meet.  Ways I can love my neighbor.  Ways I can encounter God and pray without ceasing.

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