Fryin' That Fish !

“Your Daddy caught some fish this morning and he’s fixin’ to fry ‘em.  Why don’t you all come over for supper?”

Mother didn’t have to ask us twice.  She was the Queen of Her Kitchen, but my Daddy was the King of Fish Frying. I can still smell the fish frying in that big, deep, black skillet.  First Daddy put the piece of fish in buttermilk, then in corn meal, and then he salted and peppered it. The grease had to be just the right temperature before he dropped in the first piece. Then onion slices would be dropped in with the fish. Mother would put the cornbread in a cornpone pan and stick it in the oven.  Then, she would wash the green onions from their garden. Daddy peeled the potatoes and cut them in long, thick slices. When the fish floated to the top, Daddy knew it was done so he removed it to a platter.  Then the potatoes where dropped in and fried in the same grease. When everything was done, Mother placed it on the green and gray chrome kitchen table and we sat down to eat. I can still see Daddy picking out the fish bones before laying the fish on his granddaughter’s plates.

“I think I got all the bones out but chew it very carefully, girls, and be sure there aren’t still some bones in there.” He’d say.

 Mother always made iced tea in a glass pitcher. Ice cubes from the metal ice trays were placed in glasses. Daddy liked lemon slices. He would squeeze some on his fish and then drop the remainder of the slice in his sugared ice tea. After returning thanks, we grabbed a dish towel for a napkin and began to enjoy the best fish in the land!

I miss the smell of Daddy’s fish frying in our old kitchen in my childhood home.

“What ‘cha doin’ in there, Daddy?” I approached Daddy’s garage and looked in.

“Well, Sis, I’m just fixin’ this thing for your Mother.”  He would usually answer from his work bench on the south side of his garage.

I miss the smell of the garage and Daddy’s cluttered work bench and I miss hearing him call me Sis.

After retiring from the Arkansas Game and Fish Commission after 28 years, Daddy filled his time puttering in his work shop. He enjoyed building little wooden things for the grandkids. He never wasted a scrap of wood or anything.

When I was sixteen, I walked into the kitchen, and looked out the window .

“What on earth is Daddy driving in here, Mother?”

“I have no idea.” She said as she looked out.

So, outside I ran as Daddy pulled up in this old green Studebaker pickup. He opened the door and climbed out.

“Where did you get that thing? I asked.

“Well, your Uncle Bill got it on a trade in down at the shop and I thought it might come in handy for me to drive out into the woods instead of the car.” Of course, the reason Daddy bought that old 1949 monster was so I would have something to drive to school on days it was raining or cold.

“You can drive it once in a while but I’ll be needin’ it quite a bit to work out of.” Daddy reminded me.

I think perhaps he drove it a couple of days and the rest of the time, that old pickup was mine.

I miss that old pickup and recently found it in a pasture behind my cousin’s house. It is rusted and not drivable but it does bring back memories.

My Daddy was always up for a good joke and he had such a dry sense of humor.

I miss that…………

Daddy spent a lot of his leisure time tying flies or carving out fishing plugs. Most of his equipment was homemade.  I can remember walking into the kitchen where Daddy would be tying flies made from deer hair or feathers, on the kitchen table.  He carved his plugs out in his workshop.  When it was the shape he wanted, he would carefully paint it to look like those that were store bought. Occasionally, he would print his name with paint, very tiny, somewhere on the plug. His fishing plugs hang in our den.

I miss seeing him making fishing plugs when I look at them hanging there.

Daddy use to love to watch wrestling on the television after we finally got our Motorola black and white t.v. He talked to the t.v. when things weren’t going the way he thought they should during a match.

I miss hearing him telling the referee how blind he was or telling one of the wrestlers to go home.

I miss a lot of things about my childhood home.

And, I miss my Daddy…………………

 

Some Things I Miss............

“If you’ll have John stop by after work, I have an apple pie for him. Seems like these apples weren’t as good as the last ones were so I hope he can eat it.”

It was my Mother’s sweet voice on the other end of the line letting me know that, once again, she had baked a pie especially for her son-in-law. And, to this day, I believe my Mother’s apple pies were what won my husband over.

I miss my Mother’s kitchen……………

I miss walking up to the back porch door and smelling whatever was baking even before I got to the kitchen door.  My Mother waited a long time for her four burner gas stove. It was the first or second gas stove in town when they became available. Oh, how she loved that white Tappen range!

I miss walking in and seeing her standing at her old cabinet with the big enamel top rolling out pie dough. I have that cabinet in my home now and occasionally, in my mind, I can still see her standing there; rolling pen in hand and flour on her face.

I miss seeing her old Searchlight Cookbook lying on the table open to the recipe she was currently making. I still use that old cookbook with the clipped recipes still falling out when it’s opened. I look at  her handwriting alongside some of the recipes and I remember…………

I miss standing at the stove when I was a teenager helping Mother make Bread and Butter pickles. We would visit about school and slice cucumbers; we would slice onions and cry. We’d mix the cider vinegar, white sugar, mustard and celery seed and bring it to a boil. We’d pour that mixture over the cucumbers and onions, bring it to a boil and pack them in  pint jars. The house would suddenly smell wonderful. And, I could envision setting down with Mother and Daddy at the table eating brown beans, mashed potatoes and those wonderful bread and butter pickles. I have my mother’s recipe but I have never been able to make them taste like the ones she and I made so many years ago.

I miss hearing mothers hand cranked beater as she beat her seven minute icing until it came to just the right peak. Usually, she had made a coconut cake to take to someone who had lost a loved one or for someone’s birthday. The icing with the Angel Flake coconut was the thing that made it so special. My mother never used mixes for anything she made even up until she passed at almost 95 years.

I miss in later years, opening the kitchen door and seeing my mother setting in the rocking chair we had moved into the kitchen for her because “I just feel so much better setting here in the kitchen” she had said. She was usually reading her bible or studying her Sunday school lesson. If she wasn’t in her rocking chair, she was setting at the kitchen table addressing a card or writing a letter to someone she loved.

 “Well, I’m sure glad to see you. Come sit down for a minute. I know you’re busy. Where are the kids?” She’d say.

“Yep, it’s been a busy day; kids are fine; they’re already home and I’m headed that way. I just thought I’d stop by and see if you needed anything.”

“No, I’m doin’ okay for an old lady”, she’d laughingly say.

I miss a lot of things about the home I lived in growing up but most of all, I miss the kitchen.

……….and, I miss my Mother.
 

^"Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee." Exodus 20:12 KJV

 

 

Texting and the Larynx

I foresee babies in the future being born with no larynx and a third hand. Now let me explain.

People in the future will have no need for a larynx because they will have no need to talk. However, a third hand would come in handy for holding their IPhone while the other two hands type messages to friends and family much like we type on our computers today. After all, it would be much faster than trying to type with one hand while holding the IPhone in the other.

Follow me into the future…………….

Scenario # 1

“What’s for dinner?” Sis texts to Mom.

“Spaghetti and salad,” Mom lifts her IPhone and texts back, “Now text your dad and tell him dinner is almost ready.”

Scenario # 2

“ I just wonder if Jennifer would go to the prom with me if I texted her?” inquires Ben of his best friend, Rick.

"Never know till you ask".

Scenario # 3

“I love you, Nancy, will you marry me?” texts Ted while down on one knee.

Nancy, holding her IPhone in her third hand and texting Ted very quickly “You know I will! I love you, too.”  Then they put their IPhones back into their pockets and hug each other tightly.

And finally, scenario # 4

“Let’s all stand and text the next hymn.” Says the worship leader,  “then Bro. Smith will come and text us his message for the day.”

Yes, it all sounds pretty silly, doesn’t it?  However, have you noticed how many people sit right next to each other in a restaurant or around the table at home , texting each other rather than addressing each other verbally? Are we losing the art of direct communication; looking each other in the eye and speaking our thoughts?

Perhaps our texting is getting us ready for that time when we come face to face with our creator, whether it is through death or His return for all Believers.  At that time, there will be no need for conversation for we will know all things just as He knows all things.

“Love never comes to an end. The gift of speaking God’s Word will come to an end. The gift of speaking in special sounds will be stopped. The gift of understanding will come to an end. For we only know a part now, and we speak only a part. When everything is perfect, then we will not need these gifts that are not perfect. When I was a child, I spoke like a child. I thought like a child. I understood like a child. Now I am a man. I do not act like a child anymore. Now that which we see is as if we were looking in a broken mirror. But then we will see everything. Now I know only a part. But then I will know everything in a perfect way. That is how God knows me right now.  1 Corinthians 13:8-12

Actually, I doubt that is the reason for texting rather than communication through speech.  I am just as guilty as the next person for texting someone rather than picking up the phone; calling them and listening for their voice on the other end.

I believe it’s time for us to put away our IPhones and begin to act like real human beings with voices and  eyes that speak with expression when we look at each other rather than robots holding a machine in their hand and waiting for the robot on the other end to answer.

Think about it………………….

 

About Green Grass

My posting today is a follow up of yesterday’s post.

 About Green Grass………

They say the grass is greener

On the other side of the fence,

So for me to want to stay right here,

I’d have to be quite dense.

 

I’ll say “Good bye” to obligations,

Cast my commitments to the wind.

I’ll not worry about the broken hearts

For they will surely mend.

 

So, I’ll burn the ships behind me,

Never mind the blazing fire.

For I’m on to greener pastures,

Greener pastures of desire.

 

I’ll not look back at tear stained faces,

I’ll close my ears to counsel wise,

For I only see green pastures

Under bright and sunny skies.

 

I’ll leave behind restraints and conflicts,

As I step down on grass so green,

And wonder why I stayed so long

With only that fence between.

 

As I step down upon the grass

This grass so emerald green,

A man appears from nowhere

Someone I had not seen.

 

“Come with me, I’ll show you pleasures,

The likes of which you’ve never seen. 

Your dull life is behind you,

You’re moving on to grass that’s green”

 

So I followed him down this wide, wide road,

We’d stop along the way.

“You must experience all of this.

Stay as long as you want to stay.”

 

I experienced things I cannot explain

With this new friend by my side.

And, all the things I longed to do,

I no longer had to hide.

 

Suddenly the road of pleasure

Came abruptly to an end

In desperation I looked about

But , I could not find my friend!

 

If my friend would lead me to the fence,

To the life I’d left somewhere,

I’d just leave this road of pleasure

For the life I left back there.

 

And suddenly my friend appeared


And, there across his head,

Was written the world “Deception”

Not in green, but brilliant red.

 

“I’m sorry, Sir, but you can’t go back.”

My deceptive friend did whine,

“Remember all those many ships

You thoughtlessly burned behind?”

 

“By the way, my name’s DECEPTION,

And this is what I do.

I paint grass green THIS side of the fence

For gullible souls like you.”

 

Jo Ann

November ‘96

What is so tragic about the lives of people all around us that are suffering because of strife and struggles in their lives is that they don’t realize there is an out for them. They don’t have to live in despair because God has made a way for them to gain peace in their lives through His death on the cross for the sins of the world. If you are being bombarded by the temptations of Satan, there is hope so don’t give in.

There is a story in Matthew about Satan coming to Christ while He was on earth and tempting him. If Satan was bold enough to tempt Christ, he is certainly bold enough to tempt us. But, if Christ lives within us, we, too, have the strength to stand against Satan.  It’s not an easy thing to do but we can do it with God’s help.

“ I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13 NKJV

“For the third test, the Devil took him to the peak of a huge mountain. He gestured expansively, pointing out all the earth’s kingdoms, how glorious they all were. Then he said, “They’re yours—lock, stock, and barrel. Just go down on your knees and worship me, and they’re yours.” Jesus’ refusal was curt: “Beat it, Satan!” He backed his rebuke with a third quotation from Deuteronomy: “Worship the Lord your God, and only him. Serve him with absolute single-heartedness.” The Test was over. The Devil left. And in his place, angels! Angels came and took care of Jesus’ needs.” Matthew 4:8-11 The Message

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He's Back..............

Some of you may be wondering about Mr. Spider. I wrote about him in my blog on October 1st and 11^th. The first time he appeared, he was at our kitchen window but he was probably a good 3-4 feet from it. He didn’t appear the next day but was back the following day and had spun his web closer to the window. This time, he was probably two feet from it. Again, Mr. Spider was gone only to appear the next evening spinning his web from the edge of the roof down to the bush below. He had been feasting on unsuspecting insects each time the sticky web was built. I could imagine the grasshopper I saw in his web was out and about, thinking he was invincible and BAM ! , there he was caught never to return to his little family waiting on him at home.

I didn’t see Mr. Spider yesterday and I hoped he had decided the days were getting cooler and the nights even colder so he would find a nice, warm spot somewhere beneath the bushes and spend the winter there. Not so…..Mr. Spider is back. But, this time, Mr. Spider is a bit too close for comfort. I turned on my kitchen light above my sink last evening and there he hung suspended in that almost invisible web. And, he was not more than an inch from my window.I automatically stepped back realizing just how big and menacing he was. The light from my window was shining on his beady eyes as he stared back at me.  I didn’t move and neither did he.We just stared at each other for a few seconds and I quickly turned off the light and prayed the window was tight so I wouldn’t find him clinging to his web above my kitchen sink the next morning.

Later that evening, I again began comparing Mr. Spider with Satan. First Satan seems pretty far away and doesn’t seem to present much of a threat. Then, he quietly moves a little closer, but not so close that we fear him. Before you know it, Satan is right next to us; staring at us; waiting to see what move we will make. And, if we let our guard down and open the “window”, he is there in our home wreaking havoc in our lives; turning child against parent or parent against child; tearing families apart through drugs, divorce, etc.; offering bigger and better things if we will only follow him. And, too many times, he is stronger than our resistance and we give in only to discover that Satan was a liar and a thief. He lied about the good times and he broke away the family ties that God had bound together.

How often do you listen to the lies of Satan? How often are you tempted to throw caution to the wind thinking there are better things out there to experience? How often do you  give in to peer pressure to try alcohol or drugs? All of us need to draw closer to each other; spend time bonding and talking; really talking as a family or as a man and wife. For once Satan comes in and sits down, too often, he is there to stay.

I’ll have a bit more tomorrow about this but meanwhile, remember:

“Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.” 1 Peter 5:8

 

Trailer Traveling.

“Okay, Mom, if you’ve got everything packed, let’s get on the road.” Dad was ready to get this vacation underway.

“I think we have. Are you girls ready to go?” I replied.

Two little girls ran wildly about the house, grabbing their pillows, dolls, coloring books and Crayons and out the door they went headed for our Mobile Scout trailer. They piled their things inside, climbed in the backseat of our station wagon tow vehicle and settled themselves in for the trip.


From the time both girls were small, our family loved to go camping. Short weekend trips were always good and the long trips to the beach were always anticipated well in advance. However, this particular week we were headed to Texas and Six Flags. The park had only been open a few years and the girls had looked forward to the excitement of being there for weeks.

It was sunset when we pulled in the park and began looking for a place to camp for the night. We were somewhat surprised when pulling down toward our campsite, we spotted three couples from our hometown. That confirms what I had always told our girls. “Be very careful in all that you do because there’s always someone watching you.” And, I always told them, a lot of times it will be someone they know or who knows them.

It was difficult to get the girls settled in for the night because of what tomorrow would bring but they finally settled into dreamland. There were a lot of campers in the park so we were parked fairly close to a fold out trailer. We had seen them as we pulled in and noticed it was a family with some small children.

Sometime after midnight our little family was sound asleep. Suddenly, there was a terrible crashing noise outside our trailer. The clanging and banging continued waking our family and sending us to the windows to see what on earth was going on. Then came a man’s voice,

“Son, son, where are you?” he cried out.

“I’m here, Dad?”

“Where, Son?”

“I’m here on the ground under these pots and pans!” and the little boy began to cry.

In the dim light of the camper park, we finally saw the fold out trailer standing on one end with apparently everything that was loose inside piled on top of a crying little boy. It appeared that the family had all crawled into the same end of the trailer for the night and as they tossed and turned in their sleep their weight had caused the trailer to flip sending everything and everyone sprawling.

Now to that poor family, nothing about it was funny. But, to our little family, we couldn’t stop giggling. You know how things are always funnier when everyone is tired? We would think our laughing was over and suddenly one of the girls would begin to giggle; dad would start laughing and it would all begin again. Needless to say it was quite the night and our family has enjoyed that story many, many times over the years.

The Lord wants us as Christians to enjoy life. He wants us to enjoy laughter even though, as in this case, sometimes it is at the expense of others. When was the last time you and your family enjoyed one of those times when laughter wouldn’t stop?

“How we laughed and sang for joy. And the other nations said, ‘What amazing things the Lord has done for them.’ ” Psalm 126:2 TBL

All Memories Have Teachable Moments.

“ Granddad, tould you tell me dat story again, pease?”

“What story is that?” Granddad would inquire.

“Oh, you ‘bemember dat one about how you payed hooky from dat school and you blowed your horn on dat mountain and scared dem cows.” And, no matter how many times the story was heard, it always seemed to satisfy a need in a young child’s heart.

Our grandchildren love to hear the stories of their parents and grandparents adventures. I recall when ours were little, they couldn’t be still for a lot of things but if their granddad was telling something about his past, they could set still for a very long time. I feel sure those stories will be passed down from our children and grandchildren for many generations.

“The hippocampus, amygdala and other areas in the limbic system are involved in encoding, storage and retrieval of information that includes intense emotional and personal memories.” (E-How.com) I’m so thankful that when God created humans, He structured our brains in such a way that we can store and retrieve memories.

As we age, our memory changes. Some can recall things that happened many years ago but can’t recall what they had for dinner last night. Yet others can remember current things and yet have no recollection of the past. Most of us have seen the ravages of Alzheimer in loved ones. What a terrible disease. . Maybe that’s why it’s important for us to collect and preserve memories of our lives for the next generation. There may come a time when recollection of these things will be no more and they will be lost forever.

Our memories play an important role in our lives. As I wrote recently in my blog, we have very special memories of wonderful friends. Most of us have good memories of growing up. We remember fishing trips with our dad; making cookies with our mom; spending the night with a grandparent; best friends in school ; first loves; your wedding day, etc. Something I think is important for all of us to remember is this: Not all memories are good but all memories have teachable moments. The death of a loved one isn’t a pleasant memory. However, remembering that reminds us of the brevity of life and should cause us to hug our loved ones closer and more often. A terrible accident isn’t a pleasant memory but bringing it to mind usually causes us to be more cautious.

All of us have good and bad memories stored in our brains. Those memories have shaped the person we are today. What are some special memories in your life? Are you sharing them with your family? Are you writing them down for future generations?

“Every time you cross my mind, I break out in exclamations of thanks to God. Each exclamation is a trigger to prayer. I find myself praying for you with a glad heart.”Philippians 1:3-4 MSG

Encountering Bonnie and Clyde.

“Why does it have to rain when we finally get to the beach?” grumbled our Daughters as they lay across the bed.

“I don’t know but maybe it won’t last long.” I replied.

“Well, we’re bored……there isn’t anything fun to do when it’s raining.”

“I could tell you another story or two if you’d like.” I said.

“Okay, I guess that’s better than nothing”, Daughter # 1 said as she drew a deep breath and rolled over.

“Not only did your great- great-grandparents have a connection to a famous couple of outlaws, Frank and Jesse James, but both of your granddads did also” I began.

“It was somewhere around 1933 that the infamous Bonnie and Clyde cut a wide swath of destruction through the Ozarks. I know you’re too young to remember or have heard of , Bonnie Elizabeth Parker (October 1, 1910 – May 23, 1934) and Clyde Chestnut Barrow (March 24, 1909 – May 23, 1934)  but they were  well-known American outlaws, robbers, and criminals who traveled the Central United States with their gang during the Great Depression. Their exploits captured the attention of the American public during the "public enemy era" between 1931 and 1934. Though known today for his dozen-or-so bank robberies, Barrow in fact preferred to rob small stores or rural gas stations. The gang is believed to have killed at least nine police officers and committed several civilian murders.” (Wilkipedia information)

“At one time, Bonnie and Clyde occupied an upstairs apartment in Joplin, Missouri and they travelled those hills causing havoc to a lot of people.  One day, when your Grandpa was about seventeen years old, he was riding his horse and looked up to see a cloud of dust. Upon a closer look, he noticed a black car racing down the road.  It was some distance away but he decided to bring his horse to a gallop and rush forward in hopes of seeing who would be driving a car that fast. Cars were not all that plentiful in that area and he couldn’t imagine who it might be or what the hurry was.  By the time he reached the crossroads, the vehicle had just passed, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. It was a few days later that your grandpa found out who it was. It seems Bonnie and Clyde had a shootout with a local sheriff and his deputy a few miles to the north and they were making a quick getaway.  They wanted to travel the back roads in order to have a better chance of escape. A few miles past the area where Grandpa had stopped, the couple encountered a man splitting wood. They stopped and asked the man if he knew how to get to Eureka Springs without going through Berryville. The man replied “Well, yes, but I don’t know if I can tell you how to go or not.” With that, Clyde pulled his weapon and said, “Get in.” The man complied and directed them through the back roads to Eureka Springs whereupon, Clyde stopped the car and shoved the man out telling him, “Don’t say a word to anyone for at least a half hour and then you can tell anyone you want”, and off they sped.

A few weeks earlier, Bonnie and Clyde travelled through our town.  At the time, my daddy, your granddad, operated a filling station on highway 62. Bonnie and Clyde stopped at his station and your granddad filled up their gas tank. They thanked him, paid for the gas and drove off. It was a short time later that Granddad saw a picture of the couple and recognized them. Knowing they liked to rob small stores and gas stations, your granddad was very thankful that the couple had driven off without an encounter.”

“Wow, that’s pretty scary, Mom. What if both of my granddad’s had been shot by those mean people? Sissy and I wouldn’t be here and you and Dad wouldn’t be either.”

And, she was right…………

How many of us have close encounters that we never know about? I remember the story where God told Moses about the angel that would go with them but, they had to obey the angel.

“See, I am sending an angel before you to protect you on your journey and lead you safely to the place I have prepared for you. Pay close attention to him, and obey his instructions. Do not rebel against him, for he is my representative, and he will not forgive your rebellion. But if you are careful to obey him, following all my instructions, then I will be an enemy to your enemies, and I will oppose those who oppose you.” Exodus 23:20-22 NLT 

Sometimes, God may send others to us but we fail to heed their advice when that advice might keep us from making a mistake. Sometimes listening closely to that still, small voice in our hearts can keep us from danger. Sometimes, like in the case of John’s dad and also my dad, it was not God’s will that either of them be harmed so He protected them in His own way.

We need to thank our Heavenly Father each day for the protection He gives us and ask Him each morning as we rise to keep His hand of protection on us yet another day. Psalm 91 should be read by each of us every day. A couple of verses from that Psalm read like this:

“ The Lord says,

Because he is devoted to me, I will deliver him;

I will protect him because he is loyal to me.

When he calls out to me, I will answer him.

I will be with him when he is in trouble;

I will rescue him and bring him honor.

I will satisfy him with long life,

and will let him see my salvation.” Psalm 91:14-16 NET

 

Crossin' that Frozen Missouri River

“ Move over and get your head off me!” Daughter # 1 yelled.

“I’m not touching you so just shut up!” Snapped Daughter # 2

“MOM, make her scoot over. She is on my side!”

“I am not on your side! You’ve got your arm on my side!”

“MOM, she pushed me!”

“Did not!”

“Did, too!”

Ah, just the beginning of another wonderful vacation and another thousand miles to go.

“Girls, let me tell you a little story, okay?” I said as I glanced back at two frowning faces.

“About fifteen years after the end of the Civil War, they left their home in Kearney, Missouri and headed to the Ozark hills.  According to stories passed down, your daddy’s g-g-grandparents lived, north of Gallatin, Missouri. His g-grandparents met and married there and then moved to Kearney, Missouri and became neighbors of Frank and Jesse James’ family. Your daddy’s g-g-grandparents had already moved to the Ozarks so his g-grandparents decided to follow them.”

“It was the middle of winter when the family loaded up their seven children and all of the belongings they could carry in a covered wagon and headed south.  The family had to cross the Missouri river on the way. When they reached the river, it was completely frozen over and the family crossed it on ice.”

I turned around again to see if the girls were listening before I proceeded.

“It was a long, long trip in that old wagon and keep in mind, it was winter. Can you imagine how that would have been?  They weren’t in a nice vehicle like we are in and all of their belongings were piled in the wagon among those seven children plus their parents.  Do you think those kids were fussing all two hundred seventy-five miles until they reached their new home? Do you think they were yelling for their mom to make sister or brother move over and not touch them?”

Both girls shook their heads and glanced at each other.

“After reaching the Ozarks, your ancestors had to live in their covered wagon or with their parents until they could build a house. When the family was settled in , five more children were born into the family for a total of twelve plus their parents living in the house they build in the hills about eight miles north of where we now live. And, when the youngest son born after they moved grew up he helped your grandpa build the two room house where your daddy lived when he was little. Two of the brothers who were born after they got to the Ozarks grew up and married sisters.”

I talked for a while longer recalling stories I had heard about our girl’s daddy’s family. When I glanced back, both girls were sound asleep with Daughter # 2 leaning on Daughter # 1’s shoulder.

When I think about the hardships our ancestors faced in years past, I realize how spoiled we have become.  God has blessed us with amenities that we enjoy every day without thinking; heat and air to make our homes comfortable; warm beds in which to sleep ; running hot and cold water , more clothes than most of our closets have room for and so much more. 

Do we take time to thank our Heavenly Father for all of the blessings He sends our way or are we too busy complaining about the little inconveniences in life?

“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 NIV

Frank and Jesse

How would you like to have been neighbors of Frank and Jesse James? Little John’s great- grandparents were. They lived next to Robert and Zerelda (Cole) James for several years in Missouri.

His father, Robert S. James, was a commercial hemp farmer and Baptist minister in Kentucky, who migrated to Bradford, Missouri, after marriage and helped found William Jewell College in Liberty, Missouri. He was prosperous, acquiring six slaves and more than 100 acres (0.40 km2) of farmland. Robert James traveled to California during the Gold Rush to minister to those searching for gold and died there when Jesse was three years old. Robert and Zerelda were the parents of Frank, Jesse and Susan.

As the story was passed down to Little John from his grandparents and great –grandparents, the James were well known and well loved by people. Oh, true, the boys were a little rowdy when growing up and were mischievous, but were not mean. When Jesse was 10 years old, and Frank was 13, his mother married Dr. Reuben Samuel. Dr. Reuben Samuel (January 12, 1828 – March 1, 1908) He was 27 years old when he married Mrs. James. He gave up his medical profession and moved to the James’ farm where he raised tobacco. He took on Zerelda’s three children to raise and they had four more of their own. Then came the Civil War. Militiamen searching for Frank James (who had joined the South) raided the Samuel farm, and briefly (though not fatally) hanged Dr. Samuel, torturing him to reveal the location of the guerrillas. Shortly afterward, Frank joined Quantrill's band on August 21, 1863 Lawrence Massacre. It is believed that events such as this is what caused the James brothers to join the South.Frank and Jesse often returned home after their escapades, hiding out until they felt the coast was clear. According to Little John’s grandparent’s stories, the James home had a hidden door in the floor covered by a big rug. If the James brothers were there and the law rode up, Zerelda would hurriedly remove the rug; open the trap door; usher her boys in; put the rug back in place, leaving no trace. As a mother, of course, it’s unlikely she believed her boys to be robbers and murderers.

How well do you know your neighbors? How well do you know their needs? Was there a possibility that after the boy’s father passed when Jesse was three, and Frank was six, the neighbors could have helped Zerelda with the boys but perhaps didn’t? We know Frank, who was older, probably knew his father was a minister and was probably taught in the home before his father left for California, what was right and wrong. But, when his father died, I imagine Frank was bitter. He may have questioned if his father was such a good man, why did God allow him to die. Could this have been the beginning of his life of crime?
 

Perhaps all of us should look around for those neighbors who might have a need. You know, neighbors doesn’t necessarily mean someone who lives next door or the next farm but anyone we come in contact with whether friend or enemy. Who knows when you or I might prevent some young people from becoming the next Frank and Jesse James. God doesn’t suggest that we love our neighbor; He commands it.
 

“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 this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” Mark 12: 30-31 ESV

 

A Lifetimes Not Too Long To Live As Friends.

They came to our church back in the early 60’s. There they were; a young recent seminary graduate, his pregnant wife, and a son about four years old. And up they drove in an old pink Rambler and stopped in front of the big red brick church down the street from the post office. What we didn’t realize that day was that we would become lifelong friends. What a wonderful time our families had those four years he was our pastor. Our family was growing, too. Daughter # 1 was two months younger than the little lad they led into our church that morning. And, our Daughter # 2 was born about a year later than their second son. So many things we remember during that time but mostly humorous things.

Four years later, God called this young family to another church a hundred miles away. But, not before an educational wing was added to the big red brick church down the street from the post office. The busyness of our lives didn’t allow us to visit a lot but we kept in contact through letters and calls. And, they were never forgotten.

This month, because our church is now without a pastor and our friend is now retired from pastoring almost thirty years, he and his wife came for the weekend and stayed in our home. We were so very blessed to be able to set in the congregation and listen once more, as our former pastor from almost 50 years ago, blessed us again with the Word of God concerning the cross. What a wonderful, fun filled weekend it was as we ate together and had other friends from the past come by for a visit. The six of us laughed as we recalled things we remembered and it was as if we had never been apart.

Our lives are made up of spiritual seasons. God sends those into our lives that we need for spiritual growth when we need it. There may be a time when we are away from each other but God can also allow a season of uniting and our spirits are fed once more just by being together in Christ.

How many of you have lifelong friends? Can you meet up again and just pick up where you left off after being apart for years? If you have those kinds of friends, count yourself blessed and cherish them. Perhaps now is the time to call that friend or drop them a line and reconnect. As C.S. Lewis said,

“Is any pleasure on earth as great as a circle of Christian friends by a good fire?”

It has been said that God sends individuals into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime. We are so thankful that God sent these two people into our lives for all three; a reason, a season and especially for a lifetime. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I2uIIJathUI

We love you, Bro. Billy and Gwen.

"But, I Sawwee, Daddy"

“But, I sawwee, Daddy” Daughter # 2 said, looking up with her big brown eyes into her daddy’s face, “I willy,willy am” she would continue, putting on the saddest face she could manage.

“Now are you really?  That’s what you told me last time, remember?” Daddy would say looking sternly into her eyes.

“Yes, Daddy, I berry, berry sawwee”, she would reply.

Both of our daughters were very good at saying they were sorry but soon forgot what they had been sorry for and do it again.

“Now, just telling Daddy you’re sorry isn’t enough. Being sorry means that you won’t do something again if Daddy or Mommy has told you not to do it. Do you understand?”

Of course, both girls would wipe away the tears Daddy’s lecture had caused; shake their heads in agreement and promise never to disobey again. Daddy or Mommy’s lectures and discipline didn’t always mean the offense wouldn’t happen again but as we continued to remind them, we had to discipline less and less.

How often do we as adults say “I’m sorry” and never really mean it?  A lot of times, just as our little girls,  we are sorry but it isn’t because we have committed an offense but because we have been caught. Remember, whenever you are truly sorry you are saying you did not mean to do something hurtful or wrong and you promise never to do it again. The problem comes when we continue to repeat the bad behavior or offense. A lot of times, we knew the little girls were saying they were sorry in order not to bring about the discipline they knew would follow.

Most of us who are parents are eager and willing to forgive our children when they disobey us.  We love our children and we want to teach them how to truly be sorry for the times they have sinned and how to forgive those that ask forgiveness of them. How often do we sin and then tell God we are sorry?  Are we like the little girls often were; sorry we were caught?  Our God has promised us that if we confess our sins to Him, He will forgive our sins and remember them no more.

Each day we need to check our hearts and our lives to see how we measure up as Believers. And, we need to remember that we always have a Heavenly Father, who just as our earthly father, wants us to grow to be the examples of Him to others.

“For his unfailing love toward those who fear him

    is as great as the height of the heavens above the earth.

He has removed our sins as far from us

    as the east is from the west.

The Lord is like a father to his children,

    tender and compassionate to those who fear him”. Psalm 103:11-13 NLT

 

" I Can't Believe I Wasn't Invited!"

It was Daughter # 1’s birthday. As I recall, it was her 16th birthday. Her boyfriend at the time had come, picked her up and taken her to a nice restaurant for dinner.

It was a beautiful evening. We had the windows open letting the cool breeze blow through our home.

I heard the vehicle drive up; heard one vehicle door open and shut then another open and SLAM shut! Then I heard voices. I peered behind the curtain and saw Daughter # 1 stomping across the lawn with Boyfriend beside her. Her voice was raised by several decibels.

“I CANNOT believe she would do that to me!! She had a party at HER house and didn’t invite me! And , she knew it was my birthday!

“Maybe she thought you had other plans.” Her boyfriend said, trying to calm her.

“Yea, right! She just didn’t want me to be there. She just pretends to be my friend! She doesn’t like me and this proves it! She thinks she is so much better than I am anyway. You just wait until I see her tomorrow! I counted at least 10 cars in front of her house and I KNOW who those cars belong to … MY friends! I guess now she is trying to turn all of my friends against me. She probably told them she invited me and I was too good to come to her party! I have a good mind to call her when I get in the house and let her know that I KNOW is having a party and why didn’t I get invited.”

Daughter # 1 stormed up the front steps, opened the door, still mumbling. Our living room and entryway were divided by a tall bookshelf. She stomped across the entryway; turned to go into the living room and, there stood her friend , whom she had badmouthed all across the lawn, and a dozen or so of her friends all waiting to wish her happy birthday and enjoy a surprise party that had been planned at our place one block over from her friend’s house. Remember, the windows in our living room were open so Daughter # 1’s friends had all heard everything she said…. humiliating to say the least. Thankfully, her friends laughed and laughed; her friend forgave her and her 16th birthday party was one she will always remember.

Here was a prime example of judging. Daughter # 1 was judging her good friend because of something she had seen and perceived. She had no proof there was a party going on without her, yet she was judging without facts.

“Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment.” John 7:24 ESV