Live with courage, die with dignity...

My body will be laid to rest in a Covington Cherry casket.

I'm not sure where I heard that, but it has taken on a poignant meaning to me.

I am dying.

Those are three of the hardest words I have ever had to say.

I have prayed for healing and I know healing is mine.  Family and friends have prayed for healing for me; I know their prayers were heard and are answered.  But not in the way they want or want to believe.  Healing will come to me, ultimate healing, the healing that leaves no room for sickness or pain to ever be a part of my existence again. 

Healing that comes when I take that final step into eternity when Jesus calls my name.  Eternal life at the feet of Jesus and in the eternal presence of my Heavenly Father. 

Dying grace is being given to me now daily.  Each day I see more of heaven and less of now.  When Momma went to heaven, I missed her but the pain wasn't unbearable.  When Daddy went to heaven, the pain was much more real because he had lived with me, died in my bedroom.  Neither of those experiences was unbearably painful.

When Terry went to be with Jesus, a part of me went with him.  Even now, over 3-1/2 years later, the pain is sometimes so deep it is almost palpable.  I often could not think of heaven in any terms except that I would see Terry again.

The truth is this, I'm not sure what heaven holds as far as knowing my loved ones there.  For the first time since Terry's homegoing, I'm ok with that.  I may or may not know Terry or Momma or Daddy or my babies.  That is ok.

I will know Jesus and He will know me and will call me by name; not by my earthly name, but by the name He gave me the moment I asked Him into my heart.

Live with courage....I honestly don't think I understood what that meant.  What is living with courage?  I once thought it meant living like you weren't apprehensive about death.  I once thought it meant living as if death were somehow a welcome event to come in your life.  I once thought it meant living with sickness, pain and disappointment as if they didn't affect your spirit and your heart; your relationship with Jesus.

I now know living with courage means admitting that, although you are secure in your salvation, death remains a source of apprehension and yes, even sometimes fear.  Not fear due to insecurity about my relationship with Jesus Christ, but fear of the experience of dying.  Fear of the pain that often comes with the diseases that destroy our flesh prior to our homegoing.  Fear of the unknown, of stepping into that immortal existence.  Fear of leaving my loved ones behind.  Fear of not knowing what the future experience will be like.  Fear that those I love will forget about me once I am gone.

It all sounds so 'unchristian' when I say it or write it, yet those are the things I have been dealing with.  It sounds so vain to say that I am afraid that those I love will forget me, yet it is true.  If I am vain, then I must own it and seek God's help in dealing with it.

I have tried so hard to be positive, to put on a happy face and walk in faith....faith that the Lord was going to heal me.  All along, I have known healing was mine, but I did not (do not) feel that healing will take place here, but in the hereafter.  I smile and say all the right things; I agree when family and friends claim healing over me. 

I am living a lie.

It is not because I don't believe in supernatural healing or that I don't think it could just as well happen for me as anyone else.  It is because that is not the message the Holy Spirit speaks to my heart.

In my spirit, I know healing will come when I step into that eternal hereafter, but not before.  I find it difficult to say that to my family and friends.  However, I know the time has come to own what my heart knows is truth and to have the courage to insist that my family and friends begin to make that adjustment.

So, it seems to me that living with courage and dying with dignity are different phrases that describe the same experience.  When one lives with courage while dying then perhaps that is, in and of itself, dying with dignity. 

Having come to terms with mortality, I now find it much easier to do the things I know the Lord has placed me here to do.  I'm not going to lie down and quit, there's still too much to be done. 

My energy is low and I require more rest than seems reasonable but I succumb because I have learned that my time here will be much more enjoyable and fruitful if I listen to the Lord as He speaks through my body.

The next couple of weeks are extremely busy for me; a lot to be accomplished before I begin my fall reunion excursion.  I take one day at a time and know that what doesn't get done today can wait until tomorrow.  If tomorrow comes, I'll start again; if not, I'll be in heaven and won't care whether it all got done or not.

I know that must seem lazy or apathetic but it really is not.  I do what I can, what my body can do and still have an ounce of energy left to begin the recharge for tomorrow....wherever tomorrow takes me.

I’ll complete what I promised God I’d do,
and I’ll do it together with his people.
When they arrive at the gates of death,
God welcomes those who love him.
Oh, God, here I am, your servant,
your faithful servant: set me free for your service!

Psalms 116: 14-16   (The Message)

Earthly Births and Heavenly Home-Goings....

This is a picture of my late husband and his natural Daddy, James Elton (Bob) Chandler, taken in March of 1957 when my husband was 3 years old.  Bob was born on June 30 of either 1923 or 1924, there is great disagreement among family members.  Bob was killed in an automobile accident when Terry was only nine years old.  I never had the privilege of meeting him, but I know he must have been a wonderful man because his son was the best.



This is a picture of my Paw McDonald, James Herbert McDonald, with his dog, Old Rattler.  Paw died on June 30, 1966 at the age of 57.  He farmed during the day and worked a second shift job at the local hide tannery.  He had worked his second shift job at the hide tannery, had driven home, come into the house and placed his lunch box on the kitchen table, turned and walked into the living room and fell dead in the living room floor.

Paw was a wonderful man, whom I loved dearly.  Maw and Paw had only sons.  When Daddy married Momma, she was special to them because she was the first female member of their family.  When Momma gave birth to me, I was spoiled from Day One!  They loved me and spoiled me unashamedly!  If I wanted anything and it was in their power to give it to me, all I had to do was ask and it was mine.

Two very important men in my life.....one I never knew and one I barely knew.  Yet, those men became the fathers of the two most important men in my life, my late husband and my Daddy.  The two men never knew each other, yet their lives connected in their sons, who became the cornerstones of my life.  God is simply amazing in His ways and how He works in our lives!

"For I know the plans I have for you,”

says the Lord.

“They are plans for good and not for disaster,

to give you a future and a hope."



Jerimiah 29:11

Big Little Girls....

I had an experience on my way home from Wal-Mart this past Friday evening.  There was somewhat heavy traffic coming out of town and I had to sit at a side street stop sign for a bit before deciding I was just going to have to make my way into the ongoing march down the highway.

As I pulled out, I noticed I was following an Eclipse that was driving somewhat slowly.  It was getting late and I needed to get home.  I had a few groceries with me, including orange sherbet push ups (love'm!) and a few other items that needed to be in the fridge or freezer as soon as possible.  The Eclipse finally decided to pass the slower moving traffic and cut out in front of me as I was making the pass.  I sat down on my horn but they just kept coming, and very slowly at that!

I bit my tongue to keep from saying something I would regret.  I followed the little car down the highway until I reached my turn, which they made as well.  The car begins to speed up somewhat on the less safe country road that was curvy, hilly and unlit.  I had one more turn and low and behold, the car made the same turn.  Good heavens, I'm gonna have to follow this car all the way home!  Do I know these people?

After making the turn onto my even less safe country lane behind the Eclipse, I immediately thought "You'd better slow down; you're gonna miss that sharp curve ahead"!  Surely enough, the car went careening across the lane and into the ditch, barely missing a huge tree!  I pulled around and got out of the lane, grabbed my cell phone and ran to the car.

There sat three young ladies I would guess were between 16 and 18 years old each.  The girl driving the car was visibly shaking and crying.  I pulled her door open and asked if everyone was okay.  They all answered 'yes' and the driver immediately said "My Daddy will kill me!  He can't find out"!

We couldn't get the car out without assistance so I walked to a neighbor's house to get help.  People began to gather and offer assistance in getting the car out.  The young lady was so upset and my heart broke for her.  She had never driven my road before, was from another county, was trying to listen to her GPS and didn't realize how deep the curve was until it was too late.

As the guys tried to pull the car out, the young lady was crying and repeatedly saying "My Daddy is gonna kill me"!  I walked to her side, lay my hand on her arm and began to pray for peace for the girls and understanding from her Dad.  I asked if she had called her Dad and she said "No".

I knew in my spirit that she needed to make that call.  I called the girls to the side and told the driver I thought she should call her Dad.  He was going to be upset, but he was going to be okay once he understood that his daughter and her friends were okay; the car could be repaired.  She said "You don't know my Dad; he will kill me"!

My heart was breaking for her because I remember just how frightening that was to mess up and then have to tell your parent about it.  I would have done almost anything to avoid facing my parents when I made a really bad decision; I could sense that same fear in this young woman.  Again, I prayed.  The Lord assured me it was all going to be okay but she needed to call her Dad right away.

I talked to her again and she finally agreed to make the call.  She held my hand and placed the call.  She was sobbing and apologizing and then got very quiet.  Then "I love you too, Daddy" filled the night with the sweet fragrance of forgiveness and relief in both parties.  Dad was so thankful his child and her friends were safe!

He asked to talk to me. I talked to him and assured him that the girls really were okay, just very emotionally upset.  I also told him that the adults gathered were in agreement that she should not drive the car back home.  There was questionable damage to the passenger tie rod end and the wheel itself had been warped.

He talked to his daughter and told her to park the car and he would come for her and her friends.  She told him her boyfriend was coming to get them.  He seemed perfectly comfortable with that.  Once again, through sobs I heard "I love you too, Daddy.  Thank you for not being upset with me".

She put her phone in her pocket and walked over to me.  She said "I don't have my Mom with me; she is no longer allowed to see us.  Thank you for loving me and being my Mom tonight.  I kept seeing you making the turns right behind me and I was like why is that person following me?  Then, when I hit the ditch, I was so thankful you were there.  For some reason, I immediately trusted you and knew you were going to stay with me until it was all okay."

I don't say any of that to brag about me; I say it to brag on God.  He is NEVER late, He is ALWAYS on time!  The enemy meant harm to those precious girls............BUT GOD!!!!!  God had a different plan.  I was just where He needed me to be so He could do His work.  It is so true, we (Christians) are God's hands and feet and very often, His heart as well.

I know that Daddy will never forget the fear of that call or the relief when he knew his child was okay.  I can only imagine the joy of that moment when he wrapped his arms around his daughter and held her and knew, really knew, she was okay.  That young lady thanked me over and over for being there.  I asked her if she was a Christian.  She answered that she was and began to cry again and continued by saying "I don't really live like it though".

She wrapped her arms around me and cried on my shoulder and prayed to thank the Lord for letting her and her friends come through okay.  I have rarely heard a more precious prayer from a heart more filled with repentance.  I don't even know the girl's name, it's not important; but I believe with my whole heart the Lord knows her name and she learned a valuable lesson about living Christian, not just talking Christian.

Today, there was a note in my mailbox.  It said simply "I am so thankful God had you following me and I am so glad you are a Christian and knew how to pray.  I may never see you again, but I will always love you.  Daddy says we both needed the reminder to love each other, to trust each other and to trust the Lord and live like we do."

BUT GOD......................

 Trust God from the bottom of your heart;
don't try to figure out everything on your own.
Listen for God's voice in everything you do, everywhere you go;
he's the one who will keep you on track.
Don't assume that you know it all.
Run to God! Run from evil!

Proverbs 3:5-7

Growing up poor............

I grew up in a very rural farm community in southwest Tennessee.  My paternal grandparents had bought a farm there in 1942.  After my Paw's death in 1966, Maw divided the land among Daddy and my uncles.  Daddy farmed his acreage and raised hogs, cows, chickens and other assorted species of farm animals. 

We rarely went to 'town' other than to buy groceries when Momma needed something the local country store didn't have or when Daddy needed to take a load of corn to the feed mill to have it ground for cattle feed.  When needed, we made the trip to the county seat.  It was a thrill for me and my sisters to sit in the cab of the pickup as the grain elevator lifted the truck to empty the load of corn into the grinder.  It was like an amusement park ride!

A trip to 'town' was a big affair for us and a somewhat rare occasion.  We put on our best dresses and our school shoes and proudly strutted around like bannie roosters as we made our rounds!  Those are good memories and make me smile just to see us in my mind's eye.

Another favorite memory is the community country store.  It was run by wonderful lady, Mrs. Scott.  She was so elegant and unlike most of the farm women in our community.  She always had her dark raven hair coiffed and wore bright red lipstick and nail polish.  She wore high heels that clicked across the wooden boards and always knew the latest community gossip.  Her dresses were always beautiful and we knew they had come from the large department stores in the 'city'.  As I think about it, she reminded me a lot of Cora Beth Godsey from The Waltons!  Very well dressed and more of a 'city girl' than the other local women.

The country store was wonderful.  They sold gas, groceries, basic clothing items and shoes, household products and had a small health and beauty aids counter.  A large, round 'pot-bellied' stove stood in the back and offered warmth in the winter.  In one of the back corners of the building, a small but well stocked library was located.  It was fabulous! 

There were books of all types, especially children's books.  There was a small table with chairs and a couple of old school desks for us to sit in and browse through the books.  The books were provided by the regional library and could be borrowed as in any other library.  For those of us who loved reading it was pure joy to walk in, sit at the table or in a desk and read the books while deciding which we wanted to borrow for the following week.  I always took the maximum I was allowed.

I spent many happy afternoons sitting in that corner, reading about all the far away places I dreamed of going, about people I longed to meet.  The corner was a little dark and always had a somewhat musky quality in the air, but it was my favorite place to be as a young girl.  In that corner, I could be whomever I wanted to be, go anywhere I wanted to go, have my dreams come true.  In that corner, I developed a love of books that abides today.  I think that's why I haven't been able to commit to buying an eReader.  I just enjoy holding the book in my hands, feeling the texture of the cover.

Then, there was the shopping spree that required nothing more than sitting on the little bank beside the road and waiting for Mr. Howell to bring the mail. Packages from Sears-Roebuck were like rare treasures when Mr. Howell delivered them to our mailbox! They were NEVER allowed to stay in the box; they MUST be removed immediately and taken directly to Momma. Opening those packages was accompanied with squeals of happiness and little girls dancing around the living room holding our new clothes up for all to see! Even the new underwear must be pulled out piece by piece and displayed for everyone to see! I cannot tell you how many times Daddy came in at the end of the day to a fashion show of new underwear, socks, nightgowns and play clothes!

The country store was visited weekly and the 'town' was visited about monthly.  The packages from Sears-Roebuck came about 3-4 times a year.  Once or twice a year, we went into the 'city'!  Oh, what hayseeds we must have looked like when we went into the 'city'!  We always went before Easter because the girls always got a new church dress for Easter.  Momma got one if we could afford it, but the girls always got one!  A new dress and a new pair of summer shoes, usually white sandals.  Oh, and lest we forget, a new pair of white anklets with delicate lace around the cuff!  I know sandals and anklets!  It was Momma's rule, Easter was too early for shoes without socks!

If we could afford it, a second trip to the 'city' came just before school started in the late summer.  The basics would have been ordered from Sears and the shoes would have been purchased in 'town', but the dresses came from the department stores in the 'city'.  If Momma hadn't gotten a new Easter dress, she usually would get a new dress on this trip.  I cannot remember Momma ever having gotten more than one new dress a year until I was 10-12 years old.  In some years, she didn't get a new dress at all.  Daddy's clothing always came from Sears-Roebuck.  He had no time or desire to shop; that never changed!

We didn't have a lot as far as money or possessions were concerned, but we were happy.  Momma and Daddy made sure our needs were met and gave us as much of what we wanted as they could.  We were trained to take care of what we owned.  We had church clothing which came off the minute we arrived home from church.  We had school clothing that came off the minute we walked through the door in the afternoon.  At all other times, we wore play clothes.  We had Sunday shoes, school shoes and flip-flops.
Most of the time, I preferred to go barefoot and would still prefer that but defer to my doctor's direction to wear shoes at all times due to having less than optimal feeling in my feet due to diabetes.

We lived a very simple life.  I complained about it nearly every day of my life until I became old enough to know what a blessed life I had been given.  Our parents loved us completely and made many sacrifices to give us what they could.  We never went hungry or naked and often had the little extras we thought were so important.  We went to church at least three times weekly, said grace before every meal and always sat down at the table as a family for supper every night.  There was no sitting in front of the TV for meals or neglecting chores for games.  Chores were done and done right or there was no TV for you!  As hard as I thought that was, I am so thankful that Momma and Daddy loved us enough to teach us responsibility and respect.

So many times over the years, I have labeled myself as 'growing up poor'.  How wrong I was.  We grew up with riches money cannot buy, with values so often not taught today.  How blessed we were........ and are!  I am so thankful Momma and Daddy taught us the truth of Matthew 6: 19-21.........

19 “Don’t store up treasures here on earth, where moths eat them and rust destroys them, and where thieves break in and steal. 20 Store your treasures in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal. 21 Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be.

And so I walk...........

I stood at my kitchen window this morning just before dawn and looked out over the pastures and wooded areas surrounding my house.  A heavy fog lay over the hills and valleys and drifted off into the woods making it's way on across the woods to the high bluffs along the Hatchie River.

As I stood there watching the mist settling in, or 'laying sot' as my Maw McDonald would have said, I thought what a blessing it is to stand in audience as the Creator God of the Universe displays His pallet before me. 

Terry and I once received great pleasure in visiting galleries to observe the works of artisans in various mediums.  We walked and looked for hours and then spent additional hours sitting in a restaurant talking about the works that impressed us the most and why they did so.  Yet, in all those works, nothing could compare to the works of God in His creation.

Dawn arrived and the mist scattered.  The overcast skies foretold a day of what many would call 'gloom'.  I don't see overcast days as gloomy, I see them as a time to work quietly and take joy in my tasks.  I don't see rainy days as dreary; I see them as a time of washing and renewal.  How many times have you walked among the grassy hills or wooded areas after a rain and thought about, or even commented on, how new and fresh everything felt, looked, smelled?

So it is with the rainy days of our spirit.  I've had a few of those lately.  Things seemed bleak and dreary, as though the clouds and the mists of sadness had 'sot' on my spirit.  Then, a beautiful rainy day with overcast skies comes along and the Lord reminds me that it is a time of renewing for my spirit. A time of reflection and quiet contemplation for me to draw in to Him and rest in His provision.

In my mind I take a walk through my own hills, valleys and wooded areas and rehearse the many ways in which the Lord has carried me right up to that bluff, but never across that river.  My time of crossing that river will come at the day He appointed.  Until then, He reminds me of His love and provision for me and my need for Him.  So often, I'm not a good companion of the Lord.  I'm unfaithful in my thoughts, unfaithful with the way I use my time, unfaithful in the places I allow my heart and emotions to take me, so fickle when He has given only His best for me.

No Scripture quotations today.  From Genesis 1:1 to Revelations 22:1, the entirety of Scripture teaches me and guides me to that intimate and personal relationship with Jesus Christ.  Each verse encourages me to remain faithful and be fruitful, to grow in the Lord, to know He loves me and will walk with me every step of the way, sometimes even carrying me when I cannot walk.

And, so I walk.........IT IS WELL WITH MY SOUL!