Donna’s Blog

It’s Personal!

How does the Lord speak to you?  Maybe I should ask, when are you able to hear Him the best?

I am so in awe of the ways that I feel the Lord reach out to me.  Last night I was sitting at the computer, visiting my favorite site….it’s the Write About Jesus website….and thinking about what I could blog, thinking about what a long day it had been, thinking about my brother-in-law who just got out of the hospital, thinking about my Bible study homework I hadn’t done, thinking about the fact that it had been so hectic that I was still in my work clothes at 10 PM (high heels and all), and then it was as if I felt the Lord just reassure me that He is near and He cares.  No, nothing audible, just what I’d always heard referred to in our church as that “still, small voice.”  And when He speaks in that way, it never fails to calm my spirit. 

Then there are the times that a song comes at just the right moment and the Lord speaks to me through that.  It happened Monday night after I was finished with my walk.  I was hot and it helps if I wait outside a second and cool down before I rush in doors…so I let the CD keep playing in my portable CD player (a group called Leeland) and this awesome song came on called “Carried to the Table”.  At least I think that’s the title.  Anyway, it’s an awesome song about how we don’t really deserve to be at the Lord’s table, but He invites and carries us there in spite of all we’ve done and BECAUSE of all He’s done!  I was sitting on the tailgate of the truck, just boo-hooing and letting the Lord refresh my spirit.

Then, of course, there is the gift of friends.  Real friends let you spill out your deepest concerns and needs (and gripes and complaints) and after you have finished venting, they have a way of reminding you of what is really important.  They don’t “preach” at you, or fuss at you, and if they are a really good friend, they don’t baby you either, they just help you find your way to the truth. 

It’s too bad the Bible refers to Job’s visitors as his “friends”, cause that gives friendship a bad rap.  Those three guys didn’t seem as concerned about Job and how he was doing as they were about getting across their own reasons for his suffering.  They couldn’t wait to correct him and help to lead him down their path of righteousness.  They are the Poster Boys for How NOT to be a Friend!

What amazes me most about the voice of God is that it is always personal.  He knows just how to speak to me, cause He knows what ways I listen best.  Music is a biggee for me.  I went to a concert Sunday night because I needed a time of refreshing.  I went by myself to a church I’d never been to before.  The church was packed for the concert and somehow the usher found me a seat on the back row.  I sat down and waited for the service to begin, not sure what to expect, just knowing I was hungry for God to speak to me.  It was a southern gospel group called The Perry’s.  I’d never heard them sing before.  They sounded great.  Their songs were powerful and their testimony even more powerful.  When one of the guys started saying “You may have come in here tonight with a smile on your face, but God knows what is really going on and what you really need”….I had to sit up and listen!  He said lot of other things that made me feel God was talking right to me.  I grabbed a tissue out of my purse and hoped the man sitting next to me didn’t mind the sound of me blowing my nose! 

There may have been 300 people there, but that night was for me.  God is like that….it’s all about that personal relationship.  I love that.  In fact, I don’t doubt that right now He is looking for a way to talk to you!

Psalm 57 - Donna’s Paraphrase

Something Old, Something New

William Williams wrote the words in 1745.  John Hughes wrote the music in 1907.  It’s on page 96 of our hymnal…..”Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah”. 

I was at the church Saturday working on some music.  The accompaniment track to my new CD arrived in the mail on Friday, so I wanted to go to the church and practice singing with it and get the full effect of hearing the BGV’s as loud as I could play it on our church system! 

After I finished practicing, I headed to the church office to pick out some music for the praise team to work on, but decided to stop at the piano first just to play a little bit.  I haven’t done that in quite a few weeks and just felt the need to sit and play for awhile.  I played a few of my songs and then decided to open the hymnal.  That’s when I saw page 96.  We don’t sing that hymn very much.  So I didn’t play it, I just started reading the words….

“Guide me, O thou Great Jehovah, Pilgrim through this barren land.  I am weak but Thou art mighty, hold me with Thy powerful hand”.  WOW…I had to stop there.  That SO spoke to where I am right now.  I’m feeling stuck in a barren land and feelig particularly weak.  I just sat there and let the words minister to me.  And then I started humming a little tune.  It wasn’t what was written on the page at all.  The hymn is actually in 4/4 time, but what I was hearing was 3/4 time.  So I started playing.  I had to adjust some of the words to fit into this new meter, but I felt like it worked.  And I played it over and over and over.  I even went ahead and recorded the music to the piano recording system so I could save it.  Which turned out to be a good thing the next morning.  The Sunday morning worship service started and I found out I had to be the “fill in” for the morning special.  So I pushed the “play” button on the piano, walked up to the pulpit and shared the “new” old hymn.

Thinking back on Saturday afternoon at the church, I have to admit that it still freaks me out that I just sit down and do stuff like that.  People say to me, “Wow, I could never do anything like that”, and I’m thinking, yeah, me too.  It feels like an incredible blessing that I’m not sure how it arrived on my door, and I’m hoping it doesn’t leave.  And I can’t say for sure why I felt the desire to write new music for that hymn….maybe it will only minister to me.  But I know that whenever I am in that “moment”, whenever I’m writing or singing, I’m “in tune” with God on a different level.  As I sang those words “Guide me, O Thou Great Jehovah”…it was my prayer at that moment.  And I felt God’s assurance that He would…..even though it might mean a few more weeks in the barren land.

Last but not least

She finished the haircut and I think it was alright.  I had just asked for a trim.  Of course, there were a couple of times when she held up a section of my hair through her fingers and measured out a length to cut, and it looked like more than just a trim job.  And she didn’t use the curling iron to style it like I prefer.  She got out that jar of wax, instead and greased my hair into a pretty decent style, I guess.  I hopped out of the chair, paid my balance, made the appointment for next month and left.

So why can’t I just speak up and tell my beautician that I WANTED the curling iron?  I didn’t even ask for the mirror and to swivel my chair around so I could see the back of my hair.  It’s like I’m afraid of…..I don’t know what exactly.  I just get the feeling that sytlists in general have lots of grumpy people in their chairs all day long, and I don’t want to be just another one of those people. 

I was discussing this with some of my co-workers.  They noticed I’d gotten a hair cut and it looked different; I told them it was because she put that yucky wax in it.  Someone asked me why I let her do it.  That’s when the whole, “I don’t know why exactly” conversation started.  And that’s when my co-worker said it was because I was born the last child.  Really?  I mean I had heard about the birth order thing….but wasn’t sure what last born characteristics were.  So I checked it out on line last night.

I was amazed to read them….several of the descriptions hit the nail on the head.  Here is the total list: outgoing, idea people, creative, sense of humor, feels everyone is more competent, may not be taken seriously in the family, gets their own way, risk taker, competitive, expects other to do things for them, feels small and weaker, often the class clown.

Not all of those are me, but close enough.  The one that stood out was “feels everyone is more competent”.  That is definately me.  I do tend to feel that everyone is more competent…..that the things I do are o.k., but I always wonder if someone else could do it better.  Maybe that’s why I don’t fuss at my beautician….I figure she’s good at what she’s doing and I should leave it at that.  But now that I know that is just one of my characteristics, I can decide to be different, right? 

So next time I hop in that chair and she pulls out that jar of wax, I’m going to focus on my “risk taker” characteristic (cause I really liked that one!) (i think that might be a whole other blog) and tell her to warm up that curling iron!    

A+ in talking

Ms. Robinson, my first grade teacher, declared on the final comments section of my report card:  “Donna is a good worker and an excellent talker”.

I remember being placed in the corner (remember those days?) for my excessive talking.  What was so frustrating to me, was that no matter how hard I concentrated on not talking, something would happen to distract me from my goal and before I knew it, I was leaning over and sharing something very important I am sure, with my classmate.  Of course, it probably didn’t help that it was at the same time Ms. Robinson was trying to teach.

I determined to do better in second grade, but didn’t have a whole lot of success.  I remember one day when Ms. Youree left the room for a moment and asked us not to talk.  It seemed like she was gone for hours, not just minutes.  I don’t remember what it was that I had to talk about, but before long, I was talking and didn’t notice Ms. Youree enter the room, until I felt my desk being yanked across the floor, away from the other students!

I think it was the next year, when I was attending Red Bug Elementary that my talking actually earned me some bonus points.  It seemed a little spanish girl was attending our school and she didn’t know much English at all.  The teacher asked if I would let the little girl hang around me, so that she might begin to pick up our language!  I think she learned pretty quickly!

I finally did learn to conquer the “when to talk” and “when not to talk” rules of the school.  But talking remained one of my favorite activities.  Personally, I think it is good for the soul.  Especially if you have some really cool friends who will let you just talk and talk and spill out the problems of the day.

Like yesterday at lunch.  We met at King’s Grill….an old fashioned downtown diner with home cooked food.  When I figure out how to add pictures to my blog, I’ll HAVE to put a picture of King’s Grill on here.  It’s like you have stepped back in time when you sit and have lunch in their booths.  But I digress.

I met a couple of girlfriends for lunch and great conversation.  We try to meet every week.  We talk about what our kids are up to…what’s up with our jobs…and on days like yesterday, we let out a little steam.  And I find that as we share what is really on our hearts, it can make the burden seem so much lighter.  I believe Rueban Welch wrote a book called “We Really Do Need Each Other” and that is so true.

Now, when I sing and talk at Retreats and stuff, I encourage women to get together, talk and be honest with each other because it is so important for us to realize this truth, that we need each other.  

So Ms Robinson, thanks for the grade.  Who ever knew I’d get PAID to talk?!!!! 

The Mechanic

I’ve watched way too much Charlton Heston and not read nearly enough of Exodus 14. 

I knew the story of Moses holding out his rod as the Red Sea parted.  Here’s the version I remember:  Moses holds out the rod, the sea immediately begans to roll back.  Huge walls of water are formed and dry land appears…..all this takes about 3 minutes.  The Israelites give a huge cheer and run for dry land and the opposite shore.  Not far behind is the Egyptian army.  They are driving their finest chariots and they are right on the heels of the Israelites.  Fortunately, they were just far enough behind for God to release the walls of water on the Egyptians just as the last Israelite reaches the shore. 

So how did I miss the whole thing with God removing the wheels?  Yeah, just like a mechanic.  It’s pretty funny when you think about it, and surely if I had read it before, I would have remembered that.  I wonder why they left it out of the movie?  It would have been a great scene.  The mighty Egyptian army, fearless in the face of the miracle that God is doing.  They forge straight ahead into the parted waters, never doubting that they could catch the puny Israelite army in their fast and furious chariots.  These were, after all, top of the line chariots.  Best that man could make.  And that was their mistake…..trusting in what man, alone could do.  God decided to remind them of that.  So he “took off their chariot wheels, so that they drove them with difficulty” (Exodus 14:25).  Yeah, I imagine trying to drive a chariot on the sea floor, without wheels, could be quite cumbersome.  So they are left to ditch their mighty chariots and just huff it on foot.  The Bible also said that several of the Egyptians became afraid and realized that God was fighting for the Israelites and they were ready to retreat.  Too bad they ran from God, instead of toward Him. 

I read something else tonight that reminded me of God as the mechanic….the one who wants to fix things and keep them fixed.  Kind of like that tv show, Overhauled.  It’s a pretty cool show about people who have old, in really bad shape, cars(sometimes trucks).  These cars most always have great sentimental value…..the owner has hung on to the car for years and just hasn’t had the time and/or money to restore the car to its original condition.  That’s where the Overhaulin team comes in.  They get the vehicle without the owner knowing it (the owner is led to believe it has been stolen or some other crazy story like that), and they keep it for a week or so and completely restore it to showroom condition.  It’s always quite an emotional ending as the owner is reunited with their car and sees the transformation for the first time. 

I couldn’t help but think about all that when I read Ephesians 2:10a tonight, “For we are HIS workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works.”  God is in the business of overhauling and restoring lives.  He does in my life, what I could never hope to do.  I then I just have to stand amazed and all that He has accomplished. 

He is Counselor, Mighty God, Prince of Peace and so many things.  And add to that, Master Mechanic!

By Name

I guess my mom got tired of both of us running into the house when she called only one name.  We couldn’t help it, though.  When you are outside playing and you hear someone call “Donna” or “Donnie” it sounds a lot alike.  That must be how I acquired the nickname “punkin”.  Thank goodness that nickname didn’t grow into adulthood with me.  Can you imagine someone calling the bank and having to ask for “Punkin”? 

I acquired another nickname while traveling with our district youth I.M.P.A.C.T team.  It was “George”.  I don’t remember why I got stuck with that particular name, but it did stick for a while.  I was “George” in college to some of my best friends.  But again, thank goodness that name got left behind with college textbooks and dorm rooms!

When I was little, I remember envying the girls with long names like Elizabeth or Alexandria.  Because they could be called such cute, short versions of their names….like Beth, Libbey or Alex.  There wasn’t much you could do with Donna, except to just change it to something completely different like Punkin or George.  

Names are pretty important things.  Parents will spend months trying to pick out just the right one.  When we were looking for names it was especially tough because Ben was a teacher and every time we would read a name from the “Pick the Perfect Name for Your Child” book, he would say “we can’t use that name, I had a student by that name…..”, or something to that effect.  We tried using the old family Bible to look up names that were in our family tree.  Nope, nothing there.  So we finally settled on a favorite name that we both agreed on for the first name of both our girls, and a family name for their middle name.

Names are pretty important to God, too.  I love how He used Mary’s name in the garden.  She’s distraught and weeping at the loss of her Savior and she implores the “gardener” to tell her where they have taken His body.  Then He speaks her name, “Mary.”  I’m sure it’s the way He says it that makes all the difference.  It was the same voice that spoke and released her from the demons. It was the same voice she heard cry out from the cross, “It is finished”.  And now He gently speaks her name and what she hadn’t been able to see before with her eyes, was now made plain by hearing the Savior call her name.

I hope today in the midst of all the ”stuff” of life, I can hear Him speak my name.  Some days it is easy to be overwhelmed by the “stuff” and forget to be amazed that He cares so deeply that He calls me by NAME!

Can’t have too many!

You really can’t have too many. 

I don’t even care about the real expensive kind.  It doesn’t have to be the “latest look”.  In fact, I know it won’t be the lastest look right now, because the big thing in purses right now is….BIG!  Have you seen some of those purses hanging on the racks?  They look like shopping bags, not something I’d carry to work or church with me.  And tassels, they all have tassels hanging off them.

When it comes to fashion, I’m always a few steps behind.  So, next year I’ll probably like those big purses, but for now, I don’t! 

I have to have some shape to my purse.  Those big, soft, “bag” kind of purses just makes everthing fall to the bottom.  When I was in Nashville this summer, I had some time to kill, so like any women with time to kill, I spent it in the mall.  I wasn’t looking for anything in particular (which is dangerous, because that’s when you buy the most!), so I was just wondering in and out of shops.  I stopped in one that had four sale racks of purses.  I checked it out and couldn’t pass up this cute purse for $10, even though it was one of those soft-sided things.  At least it was’t the gigantic version.  I enjoyed carrying it around for a couple of days, but soon discovered that it was true….when you stick your hand inside to hunt for your lipstick, everything else just rolls to the middle and it is impossible to find it!

One of my favorite purses is one I happened to find in Nashville two years ago when I was roaming around the mall.  It’s a black and white purse, with a sturdy bottom and one main compartment.  Everything fits in it pretty neatly, and if I pack it just right, things don’t roll around and get mixed up.  My lipstick stays next to my wallet, which stays next to my tissue pack which stays next to my gum, etc.  I just love that purse.  Too bad the stitching is beginning to become unravled.  Guess it’s time to go shopping!

I wasn’t always obssessed with purses.  Before that it was pajamas.  Everywhere I went, I was on the hunt for a pair of pajamas.  But now, it’s purses.  I think I could buy one every week.  I mean why not?  What’s wrong with having one to match every different outfit?  It’s way cheaper than buying shoes…at least the purses that I find!  (Personally, I’ve never understood the deal with shoes.)  And there is an added bonus.  Often, something gets left in a purse when you are changing them around every week.  So I’m always discovering surprises when I open a purse.  It could be a favorite pack of gum, a pair of earrings or the best thing…..is money!  See….aren’t purses great?  When are you going to find $5 in the toe of your shoe? 

Oblivious

I found myself watching the other drivers on their way to work today. 

I wondered what people were thinking about as they were heading off to another day of work.  Had they had a hectic morning, trying to get kids out the door and off to school?  Had they spilled their coffee down the front of their shirt right when they were getting in the car? Were they on time?  Were they late?  Were they listening to music or just driving in silence?  Who were they talking to on the cell phone?  Were they looking forward to the job they were heading to or was the daily grind about to get the best of them?  Did they spend time with God this morning?  Were they aware that there is a Heavenly Father who loves them and is interested in everything they are doing right now, or were they oblivious?

You can’t tell much from the faces.  Most people look seriously focused on just getting the morning drive out of the way.  Whatever their destination, they seem to be in a hurry and on a mission to get there and get started.  They mostly stared straight ahead and I don’t think you could have gotten their attention if you wanted too.  I don’t know if God could get their attention!

I wonder if God feels that way about me?  I wake up with a “to do” list buzzing around in my brain.  The morning ritual is already established……5:25 alarm goes off…..shower, makeup, dry hair, walk the dog…..6:25 wake up the girls……make beds, iron clothes, fix lunches, eat breakfast, make sure all school papers have been signed……7:25 deliver kids to their schools…..8:10 arrive at work.  Yikes!

The schedule does get to be a little hectic, doesn’t it?  I think about myself and my fellow travelers and wonder what we can do to slow down a little and make more time for God.  He certainly makes time for us.  There was a song I used to love to sing when I was in high school.  It was in a songbook we used to have and I remember the chorus said this:  He has time for the sparrow that falls, time for the wondering child who calls, time for each sinner He sees on His knees and He has time for me.

It is beyond my comprehension that God values His time with us.  He wants to hear what we have to say.  It is beyond my understanding to fathom how God can hear all of us as we pray (remember how that drove Jim Carey crazy in “Bruce Almighty?”).   Even more important, He has something to say to us, if only we will listen. 

 I don’t want to just be driving along in life, completely oblivious to what He wants to accomplish today.  I want to be the driver who is enjoying the journey, who looks to each day with anticipation of what God will do, who has the music of His love at full blast and the windows down just to enjoy the fresh wind of His spirit. 

Pass another biscuit!

(I never know what might inspire a blog.  This one was inspired when I saw a bottle of Karo syrup in the cabinet last night.)

You haven’t had a Sunday dinner, until you’ve sat down at my mother-in-law’s table.  It is quite a spread.  On most Sundays, the menu goes something like this….tender roast beef, lump-free gravy, fluffy mashed potatoes, the cheesiest macaroni and cheese, cabbage, rice, acre peas, fried okra, cornbread and melt-in-your-mouth biscuits.  Not one thing comes out of a can.  That’s pretty amazing!  It’s also quite amazing to see how she times everything so that it is hot and ready to come out of the oven, or off of the stove at just the same time! 

I remember the first time I watched her make those home made biscuits.  I’d never seen it done quite that way before.  I was raised mostly on canned biscuits.  Mom would occasionally make the home made kind, but for the most part, we popped open the package from the little dough boy and ate those.  I’m not complaining at all, because I loved (and still do) a good canned biscuit.  But now, having discovered the perfect home made biscuit….I must say I lean a bit towards that.  I only wish that I could make it.  I certainly watched her do it enough.  She pulls out a big tupperware bowl of flour.  She adds some Crisco and some buttermilk with one hand and stirs with the other until this perfect dough begins to form on top.  She continues to incorporate the flour until it has just the right feel.  I wish I knew what that “feel” was.  I tried to learn to make these biscuits, but I guess I never got the right “feel” because mine never turned out to be soft and flaky…..mostly hard and crunchy!

She pulls a piece of the dough off and rolls it between her two hands and forms a ball; she places that ball on her greased black iron skillet and pats it down into a flat biscuit shape.  Not too flat, just the perfect thickness for the perfect biscuit!  When the skillet is full, she pops them in the oven.  In about 20 minutes, a wonderful smell fills the kitchen and you know the biscuits are done.  When they get to the table everyone starts to butter them, except me.  Oh no, butter just messes up the great biscuit taste.  I prefer mine plain, thank you.  But AFTER the meal, there’s always room to put a little butter in a bowl, add some Karo maple syrup, stir that up and then I dip my biscuit in and enjoy!

I’m spoiled, I know it.  Having a delicious meal prepared for us every Sunday is not something I take lightly.  And it’s not just about the food.  For over 19 years now, we’ve enjoyed getting together as a family and spending time together.  Ben’s folks, Ben’s sister and family, and our family.  We’ve had lots of laughs at the table and we’ve shed some tears.  We’ve gone from having crying babies to having teenagers sitting at the table.  Three years ago an empty chair was left at the table when Ben’s dad passed away.  It’s still hard to believe that he’s gone and we hold on to all the good memories of Jimmie as we share at the table.  Now there’s a new person at the table as Ben’s mom has begun to care for her 88 year old sister who is suffering from Alzheimers.

Two years from now, Ben’s mom turns 70.  She’s been telling us that she’s going to pass the “cooking baton” to us when she turns 70.  I can only hope she’s joking.  Do you think she would ever get tired of cooking?  Hummmm…….I better start practicing on those biscuits again!