It’s been a year. A real doozy. It started out pretty good but, after a couple of months, it derailed and, as we get ready to close it out, it looks like its going to finish strong with a full head of steam and upheaval. Dumpster fires everywhere you look. It’s enough to to make the most calm, positive, joyful person feel more like Ebenezer Scrooge, the Grinch, the Abominable Snow Monster, Scut Farkus, the Wet Bandits, Mr. Potter, Prunella, the Angry Elf, and Professor Hinkle- all the notorious Christmas antagonists. This year has just done a number on us all. Mentally, emotionally, physically. 

Merry Christmas!!

JONI 

I wanted to talk about something that’s been sitting on my chest for a while. It’s not a political post, but certainly could apply to politics as well as every other aspect of our lives. The words are conviction and courage. 

It was a big weekend. We’d planned it for weeks. Blair, John Samuel, and Carson were all coming home for opening weekend of the SEC football season. It’s just something we really enjoy doing together. We were pumped for football and all the welcomed indulgences of our beloved fall that come along with it. 

I’d taken food requests and bought the groceries. These people eat a lot of food and so the football food is just as important as the football game. I was making white chicken chili, ribs, smoked chicken sliders, fruit, and all manner of chips and requested hot dips. Blair, our baker, was bringing a carrot cake and an apple pie to satisfy the sweet tooth. I’d also bought Blair’s fall flavored coffees, Carson’s favorite cereals, and John Samuel’s Bubly drinks- like any good mother would do. For us, when cool weather, good food, family, and football all come together, well, it makes us downright giddy. 

Now, being a Mississippi State football fan can lead to high levels of frustration during the course of an average year, so when you see you’re opening the season playing the national champs, well, you keep expectations quite low. So low, in fact, that you resign yourself to lose badly, but plan to enjoy the atmosphere of food and fellowship, and relish the sounds of the season regardless. That’s where we were on Saturday before the game. 

Just before game time, I attended the funeral of a lovely lady at our church. She’d had a difficult struggle with cancer and her body had finally succumbed to the terrible disease. She was always such an encourager to me in my blogging and I was so sad that her light was taken from us. The preacher told about all the mission programs in our community that she had jump started. Some of them, I had no idea were born from her heart. She’d invested so much in people in all sorts of situations and from all kinds of backgrounds- sharing God’s love with them in word and in action. I looked around the crowded church and could see people who were touched by those efforts. Lasting impacts of a life well-invested. 

We got home and I got out of my black dress and into my comfy maroon and white. Blair had the game day food ready and we parked ourselves in front of the TV with our mounded plates. We were the first to score. Then we kept them from scoring, but a seasoned State fan knows not to even think about getting excited until much later in the game. It’s a defense mechanism which has served us well across the ages. 

Well, they’d score and then we would. Back and forth into the 4th quarter- long after the wheels usually fall off the bus and we go careening into the ditch. But, we were still ahead. There was cautious optimism as we waited on the team to blow it at the end, but they never did. We won. The Bulldogs beat the national champs away from home in the season opener with a new coach. We jumped and screamed and hugged and acted like idiots, really. 

The rest of the night, we read articles and laughed at memes and listened to all those post game shows and interviews around the fire pit. We got back into the food and were enjoying the afterglow of the unexpected victory. The poll predictions, the ecstatic players, all the buzz. It was nuts.

After everyone else went to bed, I was thinking about how I’d shared in two different kinds of victories in that one day. There are the world’s victories which are loud and showy but like a flash in the pan. Big, prominent, and seen by almost everyone, but likely to burn out quickly and be replaced by another headliner before week’s end. They garner a lot of attention and are widely celebrated, but their real impact is pretty shallow and short-lived. 

But, then, there are heaven’s victories. The kind we’d celebrated at the funeral. Those are gained by people who belong to God and quietly invest their lives into the places where there is need or pain or where souls are lost. They’re rarely noticed by the masses or heralded on the airwaves, but their impacts are so much deeper and are forever felt. As humans, we get caught up in the big and showy triumphs, but the most beautiful things happen off in the distance. Away from the noise and crowds is where the biggest victories are won and the most lasting impacts are made. When the hands of ordinary people work out the call that God has placed in their hearts. 

Like Ellen. 

“I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race and I have remained faithful. And now the prize awaits me.....” 2 Timothy 4:7-8 

At any rate, I'm generally pretty composed and controlled with it. I usually just mumble things to myself which almost always include the word, idiot, or if it's an elderly person, I lean more toward- bless her heart- and subsequently pass without any outward signs of aggression. I mean, I don't think I'm ever going to be a road rage headline or anything like that, but I do avoid any bumper stickers that bear religious symbols or church affiliations. I think we all know our weaknesses and if I'm ever going to bring shame to the Christian faith, it will likely be when I'm driving behind someone who just won't GO!

Well, lately, I've noticed my character flaw has gotten worse. I'm finding myself to be really impatient with people behind the wheel, right now. I feel like I'm more on edge than usual. You don't have to look around very long to see that a lot of us are feeling that way. People are losing their cool over the least little things. We've talked about this recently, but I really think it's because we're seeing so much that makes us angry. Maybe we're not sitting and watching the news all day, but if we're online at all, we just can't help being exposed to headlines and videos that make us want to blow a gasket. It's everywhere. I think all of that just builds up- along with the frustrations of our current Covid situation and it seems like we've become less gracious than normal. 

Well, I had my breaking point, the other day. I was driving and got caught behind this large pick-up truck. It was about the length of a naval ship and there was no way for me to get around him as I clocked him at 14 mph in a 35. Not only was his rate of speed painfully slow, but he applied his brakes at each and every intersection to give himself a moment to decide if he needed to turn or not and making us catch red lights galore. I promise there have been faster funeral processions than this two-vehicle parade I was caught riding in and I was on pace to be late for an appointment. Finally, I'd had it. He applied his brakes and stopped to think about his route, one too many times, and I just laid down on the horn. I don't know what came over me. I could see by his license plate that he was from out of town, but he got no hospitality from me. I know that all of my southern belle ancestors (and especially the royal Scottish ones) rolled over in their graves at that moment. Me acting so rudely- and right there in broad daylight. For the infuriating driver and whoever else was around there to hear, I played a high C with my horn and held it for at least 4 measures. Now, I didn't roll the window down or extend any fingers toward him. I'm not that distasteful. But, my frustration had built up to the point where it had to come out and the horn was my outlet.

Davis and I are back to empty-nesting. It was hard, at first. It was like we had to get used to Carson being gone all over again, but we're back in our groove now. It's just us and our Ruby. The horn incident reminded me of a walk we went on with her. We were taking a stroll, one evening, and Ruby stopped to take care of some serious personal business. She took her stance and we looked away to give her some privacy. She always looks so embarrassed when we watch. I mean, I can understand a woman needs a minute. Well, it seemed to be taking longer than usual. And she appeared to be struggling. Not to be too graphic, but when she continued walking and ran ahead of us, we noticed there was something still hanging from back there. Again, I do apologize for such unpleasant talk as I'm sure my mother has fallen out onto the floor about now, but you'll want to hear this. "Oh, my word. Please, tell me that's not some sort of worm, Davis." He called Ruby over to check her out and assist with the problem. We both looked closely. "Whatever it is looks like it was once a bright yellow. And it's long- and twisted up really tight. What in the world could that be? Oh, my stars! It has words on it. Does that say Gene??" We got a stick to try and unravel the mystery some more. "General? Dollar General??!!"  It seems Ruby had eaten a Dollar General bag. Don't ask me how she didn't choke on it and die. Don't ask me how she didn't have an obstruction and die. Certainly don't ever ask me why she does anything she does. But, my best guess is that there was the slightest bit of good food on the bag and so she consumed the whole thing-savory and unsavory- to get the little morsel of good out of it and it ended up making quite an unpleasant exit. It was a painful and laborious lesson for Ruby and us, too, that what goes in must come out.  

In a roundabout and odd sort of way, that sounded kind of familiar. We may be consuming really good and uplifting things online, but we're also choking down big chunks of bad to get to it. Whether we realize it or not, it affects us and can build to an unpleasant exit. What goes in will eventually come out. Dollar General bag in. Dollar General bag out. Negativity in. Negativity out. Anger in. Anger out.

I wish I had the answers to avoiding the antagonizing pulls of this modern web world we live in. Short of having cable disconnected, internet service discontinued, and pulling our old Nokia 3310 back out of the drawer, I just don't know. I do know that, recently, I've been guilty of not always extending understanding to other people and I have to think it's because of some of the things I'm consuming. Even if it's being digested along the way to some really good stuff, it still has an effect on me. I have to recognize there's an undercurrent of frustration for everyone, right now, and I, especially, as God's child, have to make every effort toward giving grace as freely as it's been given to me.   

Starting behind the wheel. At 14 mph.           

 

Y'all have a RELAXING Labor Day weekend!

         

When this pandemic first started, I didn't consider the quarantine/relaxed schedule part of it to be an unwelcomed thing. At first, at least. We were living at a fast pace then and so to be told, suddenly, to go home and stay there as much as possible with your family, well, it was kind of a cozy feeling. We bought up a lot of food, cooked and baked, played games, enjoyed the outdoors, and busied ourselves with projects and hobbies. Things we don't normally have a lot of time to do. Like I said, it wasn't all that bad starting out.

In ever-slow stages, life has come back from that- well, up to a certain point. Most of us are getting out, but nothing like usual. We're going to church, work, school, and meetings, but we're spaced apart and we give everyone plenty of room. We pass people we think we know, but it’s hard to tell with our faces mostly covered. We see people we want to hug so badly, but we know we shouldn’t out of courtesy. It’s hard to have conversations with our muffled voices so, sometimes, it’s easier to just avoid them altogether. In the South, we smile at each other when we pass on the street, but that’s off the table with our mouths covered. We meet friends for lunches- the ones who feel comfortable with it- but we don’t get too close. Everywhere we go, we’re behind a mask and a plastic barrier of some sort and it can feel like we’re all in our own little hole. So, yeah, we’re not in isolation anymore and we are seeing each other, but nothing is normal. This is not normal. 

I confess that I’ve been feeling blah for the last month or so. Not depressed, anxious, sad, or hopeless- no need to worry about me. I just feel blah. That’s the only word I know to call it. I sit to write and my mind feels like a dust bowl. So dry and empty of ideas. I’m reading my Bible and praying and all those things we do to stay close to God and I’m quite optimistic for the future and very hopeful in Him, so there’s no problem there. So, I have to conclude that the thing that’s making me feel blah and uninspired is the absence of my normal interaction with people. It’s catching up with me. There are people I can’t see because of age or health situations. There are activities that have been cancelled until further notice that have cut me off from groups of people I enjoy. There are places and interests I can’t enjoy with people I love. There are traditional gatherings that won’t be happening this year and hurting people I can’t help very much. It’s kind of a lonely time. 

Don’t worry. I’m not going negative on you. That’s not my style, you know. I just kept having a gnawing feeling today that someone might need to hear that it’s not abnormal to feel out of sorts right now. Bottom line is that we need each other more than we realize. Some more than others, of course. I have friends who could live like this for the rest of their days and be perfectly content, but I am here to tell you that I am not one of those people. God wired us all differently. 

So, if you’re feeling a little blah, I’d say you’re probably a people person like me and, well, we’re not getting our recommended daily allowance of people right now. Or maybe you’re more of a people person than you ever realized. Facebook and FaceTime don’t cut it for everybody. But, this is NOT forever. This, too, shall pass. We’ll hug and kiss cheeks again and wear lipstick that people will actually see. We’ll tailgate and sit in crowded bleachers and high-five. There will be family reunions, bridal showers, and buffet-style dinner parties again. We’ll sing hymns in church and hug the grieving and cry on each other’s shoulder. We’ll visit friends in the hospital, go on vacations, stand in packed elevators, and actually blow out the candles on our birthday cakes. Yes, we will. We miss those things, right now, and that’s ok. Those parts of life are beautiful and lovely and it’s all right to grieve for them. Sometimes, just knowing you’re not the only one makes it better.

I think we can all agree that we're living in a day when it's probably best to limit our daily intake of news as far as it's possible. For our mental and physical health, it's good to stay informed but not be hooked to an IV of it where it's fed to us continuously, drip after drip. As kind of a news junkie, it's been an adjustment I've learned I needed to make as things have ramped up around the country. Watching what appears to be the world turning upside down is enough to make a person lose their joy and peace and hope- all those things we're supposed to have in abundance.

As y'all know, I used Ancestry.com to trace back my family history during the quarantine. I trust you didn't forget the part about me descending from Scottish royalty. Well, something else that I was reminded of in the pages of our history- every generation has had its struggles and hardships. Some have been unique to a certain time period and some are like history repeating itself but there has always been struggle.

While Carson napped in his baby bed, I remember I was working in the kitchen when the news interrupted the tv show I had on as background noise. I remember going into the family room and turning up the volume because it was obvious that something terrible had happened. I sat in a chair, still holding a damp dish towel, and watched the horror. The second plane hit and so did the reality that this was no accident. I remember being so scared because it was all happening so fast and no one knew what would unfold next. I sat in that chair thinking most about my baby in his bed and my young child at her school and I wondered what was happening to their world.
I was born in 1968. I've heard it referred to as the year that shattered America. To say that there was a lot going on would be an understatement. I was born about a month after Martin Luther King, Jr was killed. There were the civil rights struggles, the Vietnam War and its war demonstrators, and another Kennedy was assasinated- just to name a few more. Locally, a Jewish synagogue was bombed. After I was born and was tucked away in the hospital nursery, a smoke bomb was thrown into that area. It was an attempt to busy all the firetrucks and law enforcement while another act of hatred was being carried out on another side of town. As my Mama watched the bassinets rolling down the smoky hallway with nurses telling her to get back in her room, I'm sure she was wondering what was happening to my world.
When my mother was less than three months old, my grandmother kissed my granddaddy and he left for Camp Shelby and then onto Fort McClellan to train for his role in World War 2. All alone with an infant, my grandmother had no idea where he'd be going or when he'd be back or even if he would. For 4 years, he was a world away from south Mississippi in France, Germany, and Austria. As part of the war effort, my grandmother worked in a factory that made parachutes for the troops, while her mother kept her baby. Knowing about all the terror of the Nazi regime and not sure how the effort to stop them would turn out, I'm certain, when she held my mother in her arms, she was wondering what was happening to her world.
My great-grandmother who was born in the late 1800's was widowed at a fairly young age in the middle of the Great Depression. Most of her 9 children were still young enough to be living at home and their provision and care fell solely on her shoulders with her husband gone. Her older boys planted crops. The vegetables were canned. Some fruits were canned and some sun-dried. She had chickens for eggs and meat and cows for milking. They raised hogs and cured the meat. Before sunrise to after dark, while she worked to keep everyone fed and clothed, there's no doubt she was wondering what was happening to their world.
That same great-grandmother, who cared for her children through the depression, lost her father in 1918 to the Spanish flu epidemic that killed 500,000 Americans, which brings us back around to something that sounds really familiar. These stories were just from one line of my family- my mother's mother. I'm sure I could take each family line and continue to go back, generation after generation as far as the existence of human life would take me, and find significant issues and struggles that faced each one. War, disease, economic disaster, social unrest, pioneer hardships, and on and on. We can be tempted to believe that this time we're in is as bad as it's ever been, but I'm sure other generations from the past would strongly disagree.

One disadvantage that we clearly do have over them all, though, is that we're constantly blasted with every morsel of bad news as it happens. Instantly and continuously. Aside from all the news outlets and social media dissemination, almost every citizen in every corner of the earth is armed with a camera, a recording device, and many public platforms to share their findings, so we see disturbing footage and hear shocking stories all day long. Unlike generations before us, we don't have to wait for a newspaper to land in our yard or the news to broadcast the highlights on the radio or even for Walter Cronkite to break in with a newsflash. No, our minds are constantly fed bad news because it sells better than the good kind.

As Christians, we can allow that constant drip to make us anxious, bitter, and angry or we can realize that we're just living out the struggles of our day. Like every other generation before us has done. Yes, there is evil. Yes, there is godlessness. Yes, there are problems. Yes, there are people who wish to do us harm. But, those things have always been and always will be as long as God keeps us here on this earth.

We can let the echo of bad news drown out everything good until it dominates our minds and hearts or we can control the volume and monitor its flow and let God's Good News have the microphone. Nothing about our particular time has caught Him off guard. And as long as He has us here, He has a purpose for each one of us. Our time will certainly be better spent looking for that purpose rather than watching the news.

Hope we can all find some lovely and honorable things to think about, this week. It's out there- let's find it!

"I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth, you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world." John 16:33

"You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you."
Isaiah 26:3