If and When Shoes

 

1989 Me with Allyson
at my bridesmaid luncheon

Little girls love to dress up in fancy dresses, borrow mommy's purse and wear her shoes.  Allyson, my best friend growing up, and I looked so stylish dressed up in my mom's high heels one day.  It didn't matter that the shoes were twice as big as our feet.  We clunked and shuffled out the front door headed to Allyson's house to find more stuff. Stomp, stomp across the porch and down the step until CRASH! Allyson flew to the yard dragging her knee and shin across the rough edges of the concrete steps.  Along with grownup jewelry, she wore mercuricome and Band-Aids as accessories that day, but we found our own shoes that fit and walked down the street to the purses in her mom's closet in search of chewing gum and nickels, and then to the station wagon to pick our kids up from school.

 

As a grownup, I'm supposed to wear my own shoes or at least shoes that fit and are comfortable, so wearing a new pair of shoes on a 1.2 mile walk around EPCOT wasn't a good idea. Imagine walking a mile in a pair of shoes you've never walked a mile in. I probably should've learned a lesson about wearing my own shoes and walking a mile in shoes that have been walked in first.

 



Ready to become a REAL mommy

If those kids were mine, I'd make them behave in the shoe department.  When I'm old and can't take care of myself, I'll be more than happy in assisted living and won't complain about being there or the shoes my daughter brings me. Dependent clauses beginning with If and When are often joined with statements that haven't happened, so the outcome is unknown. Do I know for certain what I'll do when I'm older? No.  Did I know what kind of parent I'd be before I had kids? No. I only had an idea

 

I've walked many miles in my own shoes: raising three kids, teaching, working retail, being the youngest child, being married,  attending a small college, having A.D.D., being depressed,  writing a blog, and so on.  The list of shoes I haven't walked in is much longer: retiring, divorcing, raising an only child, raising a special needs child, being a nurse, working in a bank, owning a business, losing a home, living in a wheelchair, coaching a team, serving in the military, burying a parent or a child, and so on. Do I know what I would do If or When?  No. I only know what it's like to raise Luke, Hope, and James. I only know what it's like to be married to David (bless his heart).

  

It's tough remembering that I haven't walked in different shoes but easy to have ideas of what I would do in those shoes. Sometimes, my If and When clauses are about situations, but too often they're about others and how they're walking in their shoes. I couldn't possibly count the times I commented on how I would do things differently If and When I wore their shoes, only to find myself crashed, wounded, and blistered. Luckily, God doesn't count them either because I'm forgiven for those times.

 

How can I know what I'll do When I'm a grandmother or a mother-in-law, when my daughter moves away, or when I have to give up the house and yard I love? And, what do I do with If? I can empathize with people whose shoe list resembles mine, but every situation is different.  I have friends with three kids, but they're not my kids.  I have friends who teach, but we have different students. I know many who are depressed, but I'm not living their lives.  Lately, I've realized there's only one way I can know what I'll do When, or what I can tell friends If they ask about their If and When.

My son, eat honey because it is good, And the honeycomb which is sweet to your taste; So shall the knowledge of wisdom be to your soul; If you have found it, there is a prospect, And your hope will not be cut off. Proverbs 24:13-14
 

 The LORD remains near to all who call out to him, to everyone who calls out to him sincerely. Psalm 145:18

Call on God. Walk with Him. Search for His truth, His wisdom. Unfortunately, there are circumstances I can't control, but I can constantly work on my walk with God.  I've only walked in my own shoes, but so has He. If and When I work on this relationship, when I'm walking with Him and learning His wisdom, I don't have to worry about the When Shoes I haven't worn yet or the If shoes I may never wear. He walked in your shoes and knows your If and When before they happen.

 

 

 

 

Put your own shoes on and walk with God,

 

Katy

 

Speaking of shoes....

Sole Hope not only puts shoes on the feet of children in Africa, they also treat the heartbreaking medical condition of the parasite chigoe flea, or jigger. Take a look at my friend Cindy O'Brien's blog about this amazing ministry. www.cindyobrien78.blogspot.com Sole Hope's website is www.solehope.com

Dawn Staley, Olympic athlete and women's basketball coach at University of South Carolina, started the national charity Innersole that puts shoes on children in need. www.innersole.org

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Stories of My Life, Courtesy of Lewis and Audrey

Lewis & Audrey King

Two important people in my life loved each other and their friends dearly, and I confidently speak on behalf of their family when I say, "We never doubted their tremendous love for us."  Lewis Washington King married Audrea Mae Davis (later, her family called her Audrey) in February, 1936 and by the time of her death in 1998, they had celebrated 16 wedding anniversaries.  Why? Because they married on February 29, and he reminded her that he only had to buy an anniversary gift every four years.  Knowing Lewis, my Daddy Luke, and Audrey, my beautiful grandmother, was a treat.  I'll give my best introduction to this handsome gentleman who was a Rotarian and an SAR and his February bride whose granddaughters swore looked like a Hollywood star.

Although I occasionally accused him of being mean, Daddy Luke was a sweet man who often reared his head back and laughed at his gullible, puzzled granddaughter.  Without realizing it, I was developing a love of sarcasm and wit.  As a less gullible adult,  I tried, unsuccessfully, to match wits, which solicited more laughs. At their kitchen table, I became a competitive card player. If I won at gin rummy, which was rare, it was by my own doing, not his.  He also didn't let  me win at arm wrestling and laughed at me for considering myself stronger because I lifted weights.

Daddy Luke & Luke (John Lewis)

Probably the smartest and wisest man I've ever known, Daddy Luke was well-read with a study full of books, and I envied that room with those shelves my entire life.  He kept a copy of "The Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow" on the table next to his armchair, and I read it growing up, developing a love of poetry. I think he was delighted. Astonished  that Daddy Luke could name every president (Washington - Clinton) my 5 year old Luke studied and memorized until he did the same; however, he didn't learn them backwards like Daddy Luke.    

Daddy Luke, Katy, Susi (Audrea Susan)

Daddy Luke was famous for his blood curdling scream and startled two little girls huddled on the floor next to his armchair, approximately three feet from the consol television, on Sunday nights: as the ax went down on Ann Bolin's head when King Henry VIII had enough of her or as the flying monkeys terrorized Dorothy and friends.  Luke inherited that exact scream and has used it in line at Disney's Haunted Mansion. 

Grandmother, Stephanie & Drew (Andrew Lewis)

My ladylike Grandmother King told stories better than anyone, laughing and apologizing the entire time, "I'm sorry, I get so tickled when I tell it."   We weren't allowed to gossip or say anything negative about anyone, EVER.  She had many friends, was active in her church and community, and kept perfectly manicured nails. She taught us to sew, embroider, and swing a golf club and loved it when her grandchildren spent the night. She knew the value of a healthy smile and used an egg timer to time us brushing our teeth.  

She kept an immaculate home full of gorgeous antiques purchased by saving her "allowance" from Daddy Luke.   Grandmother didnt gossip. She taught us to respect Law Enforecent. She couldn't understand how we could possibly watch soap operas. Her television stayed off until after dinner, but we weren't bored.  With her fancy hats and jewelry in one guest room, and her "twirling" Western Square-dancing dresses in the closet of another guest room, my sister and I dressed up for hours.   Believing the neighboring cotton field belonged to our grandparents (it didn't) Scarlett and Prissy picked cotton and rode horses past fig, acorn, and pear trees back to the mansion for a snack and coke from a bottle, either in the kitchen or on the porch, but never in the den.

"I thank my God every time I remember you."  Philippians 1:3 NIV

 The human brain is fascinating.  Negative or positive, everything we've experienced resides there. "Psychology Today" says we're a product of our memories.  They give us a sense of self.  That's mind-blowing. Basically, every experience at Daddy Luke and Grandmother's house is still with me, and I can use those experiences for stories.  Their souls are with God, but the memory of their love and laughter is in my heart and mind forever.   Sharing this love and laughter through stories is a phenomenal gift from Lewis and Audrey, and from God.

Paul had a relationship with and remembered the Philippians,  and he thanked God for these children in the faith who were, in many ways,  a model church.  My grandparents were role models, and I thank God for their memory.  I can remember this verse on a more personal level?

I thank my God every time I remember Daddy Luke.

I thank my God every time I remember Grandmother King.

I thank my God every time I remember each of you,

Katy

 

Clueless in Love

Hope, 2002

I'm a recycling nature lover, so I was thrilled when my daughter, Hope, joined Planet Patrol in 6th grade. She took it seriously, too. She didn't want us to see Roper Mountain Lights in Greenville during the Christmas holidays.  We assured her their lights burned even if we stayed home.  "But it's too much gas to drive over there."  When we considered driving to a Disney park from our hotel on vacation, Hope absolutely refused.  "That's what the buses are for."  I was proud of her, but one morning driving to school, we had an interesting conversation.

"You know what's a great idea, Mom? School buses."                                                         

"Yes, they are."

"I mean, think of all the gasoline that's saved when people ride the bus. I'm glad people ride the school bus."

"I didn't know you felt that way. You know the bus comes to our neighborhood,  and I rode the bus in middle school. Maybe you can, too."

"Oh, no.  I wasn't talking about me.  I'm not a bus rider."

I guess what's good for others is NOT good for her, completely CLUELESS.

Does "what's good for others is good for me" apply to love? Considering the love chapter, 1st Corinthians 13, I'm kind, patient, believe all things and not envious with the people I love, who happen to be the people I like, especially when they're kind and patient with me.  I only behave rudely when others are rude to me. That's love, isn't it?

Imagine the crowd of clueless faces when Jesus spoke of love.

"And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is equally important: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' No other commandment is greater than these."  Mark 12:31

“And just as you want people to treat you, treat them in the same way." Luke 6:31

Surely he must mean treat others as they treat me.  What's good for me is good for them.  If they're rude, I should be rude or at least let everyone know about it, right?  If they lie to me, surely I can lie to them.  If they control me, shouldn't I control them?  If she gossips about me, she deserves a few slanderous remarks. Everyone else is manipulating situations to suit themselves.  Shouldn't I do the same?  If they post something negative about my school, my work, my church, or my passion on Facebook, I'm instructed to do the same, right? 

When it comes to love, I'm completely clueless. 

A few weeks ago, my pastor gave us "Occasional Important Reminders" that generated humble discussions.  Based on Titus 3:1-8, one of our reminders was to be Magnanimously Gracious People.  Magnus -great, Animus -soul & mind.  A few of his NOT TO reminders? use our words to heap abuse on people, revile people with our words, be caught up in society's drama, be contentious.  Instead, we ARE TO be peacemakers, be under control and not fearful, and be considerate of others. link to sermon Occasional Important Reminders/January 26,2014

"to malign no one, to be uncontentious, gentile, showing every consideration for all men." Titus 3:2  

Considerate of  all men, love God more than myself, love my neighbor as much as myself, and treat others like I wish to be treated?  That's a tall order. While others may think it's good to be rude, inconsiderate, or dramatic, it's not good for me.  What's good for me, to be treated with respect, love, and kindness, is always good for others.  Believer's Bible Commentary suggests that I think of how much I love myself and how much of my activity is centered around the care and comfort of myself, then try and imagine if I showered that same love on my neighbors, everyone I know.  If I think it's impossible for me, I'm absolutely right.  Remember, I'm clueless because that behavior isn't natural.  It's only possible if I ask God, who is all Love, to do this through me.

This love is only possible if He guides me to be there for others. With Him, I'm able to treat everyone as I wish to be treated.  

Happy Valentine's Day, Neighbors,

 Katy

Let It Snow

South Carolina winters are completely unpredictable: 38 degrees one day, 52 the next.  And this year has been especially strange: 15 degrees in the morning, 40 in the afternoon. Our coveted snow days are usually ice storms or only a few inches but enough to cancel school and empty the bread and milk shelves at the grocery stores.  The following week, it might be dry and 68 degrees.  When we do have snow that "sticks" and lasts more than 1 day, we pull out the gloves, hats and scarves, build a snowman in the yard and a fire in the fireplace, read books and watch movies, and enjoy the winter wonderland where everything looks better, brighter, and cleaner.



2014 ski trip to Timberline

A few years ago on a ski trip bus ride, we observed how much better everything looks with snow. 

"Look at that pile of dirt."

"How about that rusted tractor in the yard?"

"Wow, look at that beautiful road and lake."

"An old shack, how pretty it looks with snow."

The shacks, tractors, lakes, and hills looked completely different covered in snow.  Why?  One reason is that the snow covers the imperfections.  We don't see the rust on the tractor, the dent on the car, or the mud on the steps.  A pile of rocks or dirt becomes a mound of white. We don't see the dirt between or underneath. Another reason is that snow makes everything look shiny and clean.  Before it's stepped on, the road is perfect.  Before they're skied on, the slopes look bright, smooth, untouched and clean. Pure.

Clean.  I honestly can't think of anything that isn't improved with a good washing.  Our cars? Shiny & Presentable.  Clothes? Fresher & Brighter.  Dishes? Squeaky & Sanitary. Our bodies?  Relaxed & Refreshed.

What do you enjoy about the beach? Sand, Sun, and the Surf?  I'm showing my age again, but I enjoy Seashells, Sleep, and the Shower.  I spend a few hours on the beach, sweaty and completely covered in sunscreen and sand. I play in the ocean even though I'm constantly on shark watch, then sit under the umbrella and read, but no matter what I do, I'm filthy, unclean.  The same happens after I work in the yard, covered in sunscreen, sweat, grass and dirt,  dirty. After I'm filthy dirty, there's no better washing.  I'm very far from being a germaphobe, but I do know that hygiene makes me feel better.  But that's not all.  Washing also keeps me healthy on the inside and much more pleasant to be around.      

Psalm 51:7 Purify me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.  v 10 Create in me a clean heart, O God. And renew a steadfast spirit within me.

A plant used by ancient Hebrews, hyssop's (esob - Holy herb) oil, either inhaled or used topically, was used to ritually purify and cleanse. In Psalm 51, David pleads for forgiveness and cleansing, confesses his guilt, and prays for pardon and restoration. British pastor Alexander Maclaren once said, "The alchemy of divine love can extract sweet perfumes of penitence and praise out of the filth of sin." (Believer's Bible Commentary) David didn't wish to be merely sprinkled with hyssop, an outward rite; he sought an internal change.   

We can clean our bodies, dishes, clothes, pets, and car with soap and water. But our sins are much deeper.

Isaiah 1:18 Come now and let us reason together, says the Lord, Though your sins are as scarlet, They will be white as snow.  Though they are red like crimson, They will be like wool.

We usually associate scarlet and crimson with blood, and blood can be removed with good detergent and stain fighter.  But Isaiah was referring to scarlet as a glaring color that was double-dyed and colorfast. Wool dyed crimson was in high demand for princes and great men.  No effort of man could remove them.  Both were deeply set.

A recent sermon reminded me of the many impurities polluting my heart and mind. I strive with my own reasoning and give my best shot to make myself better, to cover my large pile of wrongs with deeds, smooth my rocky path with dreams and intentions, and sprinkle my sinful heart with inspirational words from men.  Imagine my disappointment when they're gone, and I'm left with the same stains.  That's when it's time to depend on His reasoning, His forgiveness and His restoration. My scarlet heart becomes pure white, covered by His love.

Yesterday, one of my favorite 7th graders said, "When I'm at home, I never want to take a shower, but I'm always glad to take one at the beach." Maggie Vickery, a girl after my own heart, knows what a good washing can do. 

Let It Snow,

Katy

Waiting

I love college football, and I’m obnoxiously amazed by athletic abilities, probably because I have none.  I enjoy a long pass (with a good reception, of course), an interception (especially a pick 6), and a sack (but feel sorry for the quarterback's mom).  Here’s what I don’t enjoy: time out. Those seconds send me over the edge, especially if it’s a close game. Half time also challenges me.  I want the second half to start immediately after the band finishes. I need to know what’s going to happen next, who’s going to score, who’s going to win. The 2014 National Championship game, that I wasn’t going to watch, certainly tested my patience. But sometimes the big plays come after the time outs, maybe even a turnover.  Adjustments are made at half time, after the waiting.  Players return with renewed strength.

There’s something else I love, and this is where I may lose a few readers: Winter. But I've only loved it for a few years. Call it age, but I now look forward to the stillness and the rest, especially after a sensory overload Christmas.  After the holidays, I’m practically giddy about staying inside by the fire with a book and a cup of coffee.

In the past, I wanted it to be spring as soon as fall was over. I’m a gardener and couldn’t wait for my spring perennials to show up, so how could I love winter?  Nature is brown and colorless. Nature looks dead.  But it isn’t.  Not all of it. It’s dormant: inactive, asleep, and suspended, making adjustments.  Nothing grows without rest. Nature is stripped and waiting to be redecorated.



My yard is brown. My perennials are mostly covered with pine needles.  But the suspended lilies, inactive iris, sleeping hosta and resting cherry tree are waiting and will grow bigger, fuller, stronger, brighter, and maybe more colorful than the year before.  When spring comes, I’ll divide the perennials and have more to enjoy.  Three months isn’t long compared to the fragrant spring, bright summer, and golden fall that results from waiting.

My Labrador, Hershey, likes to wander through the woods behind our house, taking her sweet time, sniffing and inspecting every leaf and fallen branch. Since 2009, The Summer of My Poison Ivy, I’ve reserved walking with her for the winter. The woods are still and quiet.  Nothing is hidden, so we see details we've never seen before, including several of the Frisbees she lost in summer's overgrowth. The leaves are softening the soil, making it more valuable.  The houses behind our house might be visible in the winter, but so are the sunsets.

Psalm 27: 14 Wait on the Lord; Be of good courage, He shall strengthen your heart; Wait, I say, on the Lord.

 

Waiting isn’t fun, but it’s necessary.  At the age of 2, my oldest child memorized “Oh the Places You’ll Go.”  I did, too and read it while driving with him in the back seat holding the book, correcting my mistakes. Leave it to Dr. Seuss to give us a creative page of reality.

Everyone is just waiting…. Train to go…mail to come…..phone to ring…hair to grow…for Friday night… a pot to boil or a Better Break…or Another Chance. Everyone is just waiting……

 Not knowing what comes next can make us anxious and tired, but God strengthens our hearts while we wait. I'm sure I'm not the only one who prays more in the waiting. Adjustments are made. Even though it seems like a lifetime, we’re only dormant for a short time, and then we see something new, something better, stronger, and brighter, maybe in ourselves or our situations. What was hidden becomes visible in the waiting.

Psalm 27: 13 I would have lost heart, unless I had believed, that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.



Happy 2014 with more goodness, and maybe even a few turnovers,



Katy

 

 

 

I Could Use a Little Help

 "The Family Man," isn't as popular as "It's a Wonderful Life,"  but it's one of my favorites and has an interesting beginning.  Played by Nicholas Cage, the successful, self-centered Jack Campbell saves the day at a convenience store, then attempts to save Cash, the lowlife thief who caused the disturbance.  Billionaire Jack is the perfect person to advise Cash. "Everybody needs something," he tells him, but when Cash asks Jack what he needs, he answers, "I got everything I need," which results in the rest of the movie showing him that he doesn't.  It isn't Cash who needs help.

This post was intended for Christmas Eve, but sometimes reality is not happy or merry. We all could use a little help. Everyone needs saving, even a shepherd on a hillside near Bethlehem.

Norah Loft's biblical fiction novel, "How Far to Bethlehem?" is a book I read around Christmas.  Only having time for one chapter, I focused on the fictional shepherd, Josodad, a devout Jew who knew the Lord would deliver in His own good time.  His not so patient zealot son, Nathan, dealt with the Romans in his own good time. After Nathan's arrest, Josodad sold his flock, abandoned the Law, offered bribes, and lied to rescue his son, but it didn't work.  So like a faithful Jew, he went to the Wailing Wall to ask one favor of God- that his son would die quickly. Nathan spent 60 hours hanging on a rough Roman cross, bleeding and suffering, dying slowly - God failed him.

Time heals all wounds?  Five years pass.  He and his wife don't communicate.  She has their other children, Mary, Martha and Lazarus, to care for.  Josodad is lonely. He's a stranger in his own home.  He's tending another man's flock with other shepherds.  He's depressed.  He has kept the Law and waited for deliverance.  Although tempted to believe that God was manmade, Josodad prays the good Jew's first prayer every morning.  

Five winters pass. He's miserable. He's bitter. He needs help. In the quiet darkness one winter night,  he doubts God's existence. Out of habit, Josodad makes his evening prayer but adds a special request: that he will die in his sleep. 

He wakes up after a few hours. God failed him again. God failed him all along.  Never had Josodad asked a favor for himself.  He kept the Law, paid his dues, and made his prayers, but his son was gone forever.  Josodad will follow.  There's a cliff. The other shepherds are asleep. His family will be better off. 

Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then is there no healing for the wounds of my people? Jeremiah 8:22

We know we need help when life is difficult like Josodad's.  But sometimes, like Jack Campbell, we have all we need and think we don't need help.  We attend church, sing in the choir, teach Sunday school, volunteer at the elementary school, and raise kids.  We do the helping, but it doesn't last forever. We finally realize we're wounded.  Our souls are sin-sick. We need a Balm.

Used for medicinal purposes, the balm in Gilead was only a day's travel for the Israelites, but they didn't use it.  Help was there; they simply didn't make the trip to find it.  There's always help for us; it's close by and often comes unexpectedly.

Josodad is standing next to the cliff.  In the dark night, he notices his black shadow defined. There's a light too brilliant to be a star, as if the sky opened up.  Then an angel appears and makes the familiar announcement, "Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news...." Our Deliverer is here. The waiting is over.  What about Nathan?  It's too late.  He's dead.  But God provides a balm to heal Josodad's wounds.

This is biblical fiction.  I'm not a theologian.  I've never studied angels.  I'm not trying to add to the Bible; it's complete.  But Norah Loft ends Josodad's chapter unexpectedly:

Then he saw that the angel was not alone.  Around him was a multitude, a great host, with all bright beautiful faces.  But of the host Josodad had eyes only for one familiar, beloved face; and in the chorus of voices signing, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men," he heard only the voice of his own son.

They vanished and he was alone in the starlight.  He stood there knowing that Nathan was not a dead thing in the ground, but alive, recognizable and happy, part of unconceivable glory. All those years wasted in grief and bitterness, with Nathan, young and beautiful, safe in the hands of God all this time........A man should have faith.

   

The shepherds' names are never mentioned, but "they made haste and found the babe."  They, like us are real people living real lives, wounded with sin-sick souls.

The sky may not open up for us,  but help will come.  We may not know who, what, or where, but there is a Balm in Gilead for us. We may not know for who, what, or where, but God can use us as a balm. 

Katy