The War is Over...

...but in looking at the shelves at the Williamson County library, one can't be sure.

There are hundreds of books in the stacks on the Civil War, including numerous tomes entitled "Why the South Lost the Civil War" and  "Strategic Blunders by the Confederate Army" and at least 50 books about Gettysburg. I was amazed by the display. (There was a terrible battle in Franklin in which six generals were killed, the most in any single conflict, but those accounts must have been checked out.) I picked up one about the underground railroad and another exploring the roles of Southern women during the Civil War. I also picked up a book on Southern humor because there are some things I just don't "get" yet, including "fishin', grits, and yer mama."

Discovered that my very favorite paint in the world (Pittsburgh Paint's Grand Distinction) is, in fact, a store brand label of Porter Paint. So the good news is that I can get that wonderful quality paint that I used to purchase at Menard's, but the bad news is that it's $20 a gallon more at the Porter Paint Store.  Hmmm...let me know if you're coming this way!

Musings

It just struck me as I typed the title of this post, "Musings" that it indicates the results of "thinking or pondering". So our good English word "amuse" means "without thought or pondering" because the prefix a- means "without." (Latin was one of the more worthwhile classes I took in high school...) Since our culture places such high value on amusement I can only surmise that it is a culture that prefers to avoid thought-full life, devoid of meaningful exchanges. Pity.

But today I am pondering words attributed to Jerry Bridges, that "my best days are not beyond the need of grace, and my worst days are not beyond the reach of grace." That's good news. There is simply nothing I can add to make his words better.

The importance of reminders

I've been amazed by the things I've come across during this move that possess the power to transport me to specific moments in time - photos, mementos, and small gifts from people.

This picture, for example, was taken when we were living in a duplex in Iowa City and Emily was an infant, probably around 6 months of age. (I look amazingly alert, despite the fact that she didn't sleep much the first 6 months of life. I  remember sitting in 985 Pammel Ct. in Ames, surrounded by our boxed up worldly possessions staged for moving, trying to quiet a disconsolate 2-week-old infant while Bruce struggled to help his hired typist understand that the tables in his dissertation were typed incorrectly, and I mused, 'I wonder if this is what they mean by "stress"?')

I've been challenged the past couple of weeks to remind myself daily of that which is truly important because I am forgetful. In the face of distractions I am prone to forgetting that God is kind and present and sufficient. I forget that my purpose is to know and enjoy Him forever and bring Him glory. I forget that His nearness is my good and in His presence is fullness of joy.

My word prompt is "enjoy" - to center my soul for a few moments throughout the day on the One who is truly enjoyable.

Some of my favorite people!

I have to admit, our time together over Christmas was way too short. This foursome ranks as my favorite! They are fun, fun, fun. OK, smart-mouthed, too, and terrible teases.  But absolutely my favs.

Good reasons for frequent flyer miles.

Local Flavor

This morning Bruce and I had a date at Dotson's, an almost 60-year-old, down-by-the-river, hole in the wall, local eatery this morning. The awning wasn't up and we didn't exactly know which door to use, but a kind couple pointed us the right direction.

It was the real deal - grits, biscuits and autographed menus and pictures of country singers. But the highlight of the excursion occurred when Bruce went to pay the tab and a young man close by said, "It isn't often that you'll see a Hawkeye and Iowa State cap in the same place in Franklin."  He had grown up in Lisbon, gone to college at U of I and started work in Franklin 9 years ago. He liked it so much he stayed. We had a nice conversation with his family and then, since the sun was actually shining, we took a little drive to explore the regions south of Franklin.

I have a new geography program employed to help me learn the names of nearby towns and regions. It's called Craigslist.  Looking at posts forces me to look on a map to locate the sellers. So I know that Hendersonville is too far, Smyrna or Lewisburg, maybe, but Cool Springs, Brentwood and the Vanderbilt area can be OK.  Aren't I getting an education? Who knew shopping could be so beneficial?

Disturbances

Making breakfast Christmas morning

Whenever Bruce used to change the water filter at our house in Muscatine, he generally had to flush the line to blow out the sediment and mineral deposits that had been dislodged during the process.  Likewise, throwing a big rock in a still pond will stir up silt and mud that is usually settled at the bottom. This move to Franklin has been like a big rock disturbing my placid life, for which I am appreciative - sort of!

Charles Swindoll said "I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it." Lots of times, over the past 2 months, I haven't posted much simply because I was processing (and reacting to) everything we were experiencing. (Trust me, there is much about my brain you really don't want to know!) I have spent much of my time learning how to respond to new circumstances and the "silt" in my life that got stirred up from the disturbance of my "normal".

It seems to me that, rather quietly, I've turned a corner of sorts this week. In part it's due to time, in part to the return of routine and creative outlets, and in large part to grace and the kind intercession of friends and family.

I have learned things I don't ever want to forget and experienced kindnesses I will always remember. I finally, truly understand why Jesus commends us for showing hospitality to strangers (Mt 25:35). Being a stranger is a "broken place" along with being hungry, thirsty and in need - and in the comfort of community I was oblivious to that. Not anymore.

So I've learned something. And Mom always said if you learned something it was a good day - so I've had lots of good days!

Dumplin's & Fixin'

Yes, I received an impromptu call from a new friend who suggested we have lunch today, so instead of the pork barbecue I was hankering for, I deliberately chose the Noon Special, Chicken 'n Dumplings. I would have taken a picture of them, but have you ever SEEN dumplings?  I suppose they would look worse cold than they do hot, but they aren't much to look at. And I am pretty sure that every one of those big doughy lumps went straight from my stomach to stick on my hinder parts. But I have now been initiated (and hands-down, I'd vote for my mother-in-law's chicken and homemade noodles any day of the week!).

The other night I heard my husband of 27 years say that he was "fixin'" to do something. I turned around and hissed, "fixin'? FIXIN'? You're FIXIN' to do something???" For crying out loud! We've only lived here 60 days! I think he said it on purpose. Really.

Well, we're into Day 4 of snow days. Yep, we had 4" of snow on Sunday night and the chilluns have been playing all week. I've seen the country roads and when they're icy (not to mention they are already narrow, curvy and hilly) the buses just can't go out. Bring on the babysitters and videos, I guess. But for me, my response is to just turn the setting on my heated van seat on High when I'm tooling around town. Love it!

In the Air!

Though Tennessee is suffering from almost total paralysis under the 3-4" of snow we received in the wee hours (and 12" south of us), nonetheless, Michael boarded a plane at O-Dark-Hundred hours this morning and after a bit of a delay, appears to be en route to Tucson via Denver (with every possibility of making the connecting flight) for his NOLS semester. It's finally here! Seven months of getting up at 4 a.m. to head off to a factory job, all for the joy of this opportunity.

Bruce thought it rather fun to drive the sparsely populated, snow/slush-covered four lanes of I-65 by himself at 4:00 this morning. I am betting my allowance that he drove faster than prudence would allow, so I am glad I was home on the computer checking flight status. For sure, he was the first guy at work this morning. Good thing he ate a banana on his way out the door. It's a long time until lunch.

Down and Dirty?

So for a number of years I've thought the general headache I endured upon waking every morning was due to my coffee addiction, although I only drink it in the morning, and usually not more than a mug (OK, a very large mug) or two. Curiously, though, the headache dissipates after a short while after rising, and often before the morning java is consumed.

So, it occurred to me a couple of weeks ago that perhaps, just perhaps, I might have an allergy to feathers.  I've used a feather/down pillow since I was a child, and when I left home at 18, Mom sent along a couple of pillows. Now you have to realize that the pillows were made from the old daybed that my mom slept on as a child, given new ticking every decade or so. OK, maybe every 5 years.

Figuring that my grandparents didn't run out during the Great Depression to purchase a daybed, I have to assume it was in their home when Mom was born in 1929. Doing the math here, I have to figure that the feathers came from ducks/geese that have been dead for at least 80-85 years. There is a distinct possibility that the feathers have irreparably broken down into dust, you think?

So I snagged an "inferior synthetic pillow from the linen closet and have been using it for a week or so. No morning headache. I'm only sad that I can't figure out how to use the data for a science fair experiment.  I'm pretty sure that takes place in March, and I'd be all set to go.

Traffic Jam

Pretty crazy, but true:  we diddled around up in Brentwood after we went to church yesterday and started our trek home shortly after noon.  Franklin Road was stop-and-go traffic for five miles, complete with local law enforcement officers assisting the thousands of local residents who were exiting some of the ginormous churches that populate the corridor.

Truth is, if everyone, everywhere pursued Jesus, we would probably just have neighborhood churches because the traffic would strangle cities every weekend. We likely wouldn't have room or need for the behemoth structures and elaborate organizations born of American consumerism. But, not everyone believes Jesus is who he said he is, so we muddle along.

We had snow, it's true, and good ground coverage on Christmas Day, the first time in 17 years for the Nashville area. This is our backyard (pretty much the whole thing) with our dusting of the white stuff. The back is about 30-40 feet deep, about twice the size as the berm we had on the north side of the screened in porch in Muscatine. Big difference between .66 acre and .16 acre. But it's private, backing up to a middle school, so we aren't complaining. Small, but beautiful, close neighboring houses not withstanding.

Today I find myself is a place of wonder and gratitude - amazed that God isn't surprised by any of our foibles, fears or failures and He loves us anyway. He doesn't love us because of what we offer Him, what we "can do for" Him.
It's so lopsided, it takes my breath away.