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. 

 

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!