Posts Tagged ‘Grandparents’


Oldest grandson, Brandon, at Paines Prairie State Park, Florida

“And the work of righteousness shall be peace; and the effect of righteousness quietness and assurance forever” (Isaiah 32:17).

 “And that ye study to be quiet,…”(1 Thessalonians 4:11).

When I stand in awe of creation, I understand the meaning of STUDY to be quiet.  At home with all the distractions of daily living, I forget to study on ways to be quiet, meditate, worship, and stand in awe of the majesty of God.

Lord, help me be diligent to become a student of quietness – regardless of the hectic pace which surrounds all my daily routines and responsibilities.


Happy all the Time

Pappaw with grandson, Luke

There’s not much that is more wonderful than the sound of a child having a deliriously, joyful time – or what I’d call a bubbling, bubbling, bubbling good time.  The laughter is delicious, and infectious. I love watching my grandchildren wrestle with their Papaw and try to get the best of him.  All come away having had a wonderful time, and desiring more.  What sheer delight to hear the laughter ring out. 

         I need that spirit of joy to reside in my heart, ready to be released as unreservedly as that of a child.  Teach me, Lord that I can be “in right, outright, upright, downright, happy all the time,” even in times of trial and stress.  I think Nehemiah said it best, “For the joy of the Lord is my strength” (Nehemiah 8:10).

Introducing 365 Moments in Time

My husband and I are on a summer journey enjoying family, friends, and ministry.  This has given me more personal time to reflect and rejoice in events of the past, in places we’ve visited, and in people we’ve met.  For the remainder of the summer, I will be sharing with you Moments in Time through picture, scripture, and memories. I hope these entries will be a blessing to you.

Grandma’s Porch Swing

Though the picture is blurry, it is indeed the actual porch where Grandmommie planted thousands of seeds each year and enjoyed a colorful harvest growing all around that ol' porch swing.

Sitting on the porch swing down at Grandma’s house,
We push off from those old weathered floorboards.
High we go,
higher and higher my sis and I, till almost
our toes touch the ceiling.
Then back down, to push off once more.

The rusty hinge on the porch screen door squeaks out its raspy voice,
the spring twanging, like a taut bow as it releases an arrow.
We are on instant alert about approaching peril.
A grown-up will chide us and run us off the porch,
so we drag our feet, till the swing barely moves.

Grandma’s anxious face peers around the corner.
“Thought I heard a commotion out here. Ya’ll okay?
“We’re fine, Grandmommie.”
“Well, don’t ya’ll be taking that ol’ swing too high.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” we reply in perfect unison.

In that quiet lull as we sway back and forth, swatting an occasional sweat bee,
swinging like old people after a hard days work,
half-dozen or so hummingbirds appear
among the morning glories on the lattice at the edge of the porch.
We don’t move a muscle; we don’t even scratch our noses.
We stare unblinkingly at this great mystery of aviation.

The rusty hinge speaks out again.
The old screen door slams,
– a signal.
The hummingbirds move on,
and we, my sis and I
one more time
push off from those old weathered floorboards.


Landmarks on the Journey Home

            As I drove home from work yesterday, I was feeling such exhaustion that I could barely endure the thought of the miles that still stretched before.  “Home” almost seemed elusive. The 22 mile commute was something I had been doing for more than a year.  Usually it was enjoyable, but today, I just wanted to be home.  As I began to notice landmarks along the way, it helped me focus on how close I was to my destination.  There was the man sitting on his painted horse, just as he does every afternoon at this hour.  (I never have figured out why he does this unless it is to watch the sunset, or train his horse to stand quietly or perhaps to bring attention to his Horse Riding School)  Now I am passing the mighty Oak Tree that finally succumbed to the constant battering winds and has fallen into the pond where now the ducks swim in and out of the branches.  Oh and there on the left is the Cross Brand Cowboy Church sign.  I’m getting close to home and feeling invigorated with renewed energy.  I’m almost there.  This reverie reminded me of a day in August, 2005 when I was taking my three-year-old grandson, Connor home from a visit.  He had spent three days with his Papa and me, and now we had begun the 2 ½ hour journey.

            As we began to get closer to his home, he began to fidget with restlessness.  “I’m ready to see my Mommy,” he said.  “Nonna, May I use your phone and call her?”

            Listening to his conversation with his mom, I detected that his mom was asking for landmarks.  He’d say, “Nonna, what can we see now?”  I’d answer, “Burger King.”  He would relay this to his mom.  She apparently was telling him what to look for next.  As we called off one then another, and another, he became more and more excited

            “Nonna, how much further?”

            “Tell your mommy we just passed the Wal-Mart store.”

            “Nonna, Nonna, it’s just two minutes till I see my mommy!”

            By this time I wasn’t needed in the conversation.  It was all about what he and his mom were discussing.  I simply was along for the ride.

            “Mommy, we just turned on our street!”

            “Mommy, we’re at the top of the hill!”

            “Mommy, are you watching for me?  Hurry, we’re coming down the hill!”

            I glanced into the rear view mirror and saw Connor practically dancing in his infant seat.

            “Mommy, I see you!  I see you!  I see you!”

            There she stood beside the driveway with her phone pressed to her ear.  She was still talking to him as she opened the van door and embraced him.  Her son had come home!

            As I reflected upon this beautiful reunion of my daughter with her son, I recalled the words of composer, Dick Baker, “longing, longing for Jesus.  I have a longing in my heart for Him.  Just to be near Him, to feel His presence, I have a longing in my heart for Him.”

            This journey we call life, will someday conclude.  I’m sure there will be milestones and landmarks along the way, but I know the precious sight I just experienced will keep me focused on the journey’s end.  Jesus will talk me Home to his welcoming embrace.

%d bloggers like this: