My little Sister

My sister, Sarah, just turned fourteen. I can hardly believe how fast time has passed! I remember helping mom with Sarah when she was a baby. I was still at the age when I loved playing with baby dolls, and now I had a real baby to play with! I did everything for mom and I loved it! I changed diapers, mixed formula, fed her a bottle, played with her, put her to sleep...I always say I practically raised Sarah because I did everything! Now my sister has grown into an amazing young lady. I never expected to become best friends with my little sister at such a young age. She is far more mature than I was at her age! Of course, that’s because she has such a great older sister to look up to! haha She could actually teach me a thing or two. Sarah has a beautiful personality. She makes friends instantly wherever she goes. She has a passionate love for all animals – big and small. She has a rough and tumble side, and a sweet and girly side. She can rock some cowboy boots while she’s riding her horse, and she can work some high heels, all dressed up going to church. Her random humor and silly side are a refreshing relief from my “grown-up” responsibilities.

More than just her friendly personality and versatile style, my sister has a gentle spirit and genuine heart for the Lord. Her heart is always in the right place. Unlike me, Sarah is always thinking about opportunities to be a witness. I often forget about taking a chance to witness to someone, but Sarah’s example proves that the Lord truly lives in her. One example of Sarah's witness would be one time when we were getting our nails done together. Sarah surprised me when I overheard her conversation with the man doing her nails. The people at the nail places are always foreign and very difficult to understand. Most of the time, I’m not in a chatty mood so, I don’t bother even trying to start a conversation and usually discourage it when they do. But Sarah saw an opportunity to be a witness and took it! I overheard her asking the man doing her nails if he went to church anywhere. I don’t think he understood and she had to ask a couple of times, but that didn’t deter her. She proceeded to tell him where she went to church. I immediately began to feel guilty. I’ve gotten my nails done so many times over the years, and not once had it ever occurred to me to ask the person if or where they went to church or anything along those lines. I knew right then and there that the Lord has a special plan for my sister. Of course, He has a special plan for everyone, but I believe Sarah will do great things for the Lord because of her confidence in Him and her heart for others. I’d like to be able to say that I teach my sister new things every day; the truth is I could learn a lot just by watching her.  I remember the day Sarah came into this world. Little did I know then, that God not only sent me a sister, but a best friend. I don’t know what I would do without her. I love her more than anything in the world and I hope and pray every day that I can set an example for her that the Lord would be proud of.

My Big Brother

Until I was eight years old, it was just Joseph and me. We were home schooled for some of that time, so we were all each other had. We usually did a lot of arguing, as can be expected, but we always had fun growing up together. We played cowboys and Indians in the woods for hours. One time, we took the paddle my dad made to spank us with and threw it on top of my Uncle Seth’s barn. We thought that would be it for the spankings. Dad just made a bigger paddle. My brother taught me how to play football. We were always outside doing something.

We’ve survived two falls that resulted in hospital visits. When Joseph was about six and I was four, we were climbing our favorite tree when Joseph fell. He fell a good ways and it knocked him unconscious. I was still up in the tree and looked down and hollered, “Jose? Jose?” and then looked up to the kitchen window, where mom was washing dishes, and hollered, “Mom!” Mom ran outside in a panic. According to mom, I was leaning over Joseph asking if he was dead. I’m sure that didn’t help keep mom from going into panic mode. Joseph ended up being fine, but we had mom scared to death! Another time, when I was five, Joseph and I were playing on the bunk bed when we were supposed to be asleep. I was hanging off the top bunk and Joseph had my hands as if we were Mufassa and Scar on “The Lion King.” Very dramatically, he said, “long live the king!” and threw my hands off the bed. I fell and split my head open on the door knob. Being the blond that I am, I didn’t bother to hold on, but willingly fell off the bed. I still have a scar on my forehead where I got seven stitches that night. It makes for a funny story though!

My brother taught me how to be tough. He never did anything for me, but expected me to keep up with him. If we were playing football, he never took it easy on me. He showed me respect without treating me like a baby. Growing up, in all our pictures and home videos, Joseph is always squeezing my hand or arm. Whether or not you can see it, he has that clenched grin pasted on his face. I like to think that he just loved me so much he couldn’t control it! Joseph has a great sense of humor. He always has a funny story to tell and keeps us laughing. He is tough and strong, and might appear a bit on the rough side, but he is humble and has a good heart.

Over the years my brother and I have grown apart, as do most brothers and sisters I am sure, but I know that he’s still there for me. There is a special bond that only a brother and sister share. It’s a loyalty and a pride. It’s an understood commitment.  And I know that no matter where life takes us, we’ll always be there for each other.

My Mom

If you were to ask me who my best friend is, I would, without a doubt, tell you my mom. Just like any best friends, my mom and I have arguments and get mad at each other. But if I ever have a problem and need to talk it out with someone, or if something exciting happens and I can’t wait to share it with someone, my mom is always the first person I go to. My relationship with my mom is a rare one. We can laugh and cry together, and even when we are mad at one another, I know that she will always be there for me.

When I was little, my mom would buy us matching dresses from a catalog. We loved to go shopping together, and still do! My mom always wants me to look cute and stylish, and I probably let her dress me longer than most girls, but she has always made sure I was dressed nicely. Although, one occasion I remember vividly when she made me wear something that she thought was cute and I thought was horrible. When I was in kindergarten, I had a big, fluffy dress. I mean, this thing was as fluffy and frilly as it gets! It looked like a dress a southern belle would wear back in the 1800’s. I actually wore it later in the year when I played Miss Muffett in our kindergarten play! My mom held me while I cried outside my classroom. I was so embarrassed about having to wear that fluffy dress and mom just thought it was the cutest thing. She has since apologized for the emotional trauma she caused me.

My mom and I love to have a good laugh. I remember once when I was about 16 or 17 and I wanted my mom to highlight my hair. I had everything ready to go and really wanted her to do it that night. Mom, on the other hand, was tired and wanted to go to bed. I had already put the cap on, which is a plastic shower-cap looking cap that completely covers your head. We got into a heated argument because she had said she would do it and I wanted her to do it then. I was very upset and was angrily fussing at her when she just started laughing. The fact that she was laughing made me even madder, but she was laughing so hard that it was difficult not to start laughing too. Once she gained her composure, she said that I just looked so funny arguing with her with that cap on my head! Whether it’s doing a funny dance in the kitchen, or wearing an elephant hat in a store, we always find something to laugh about. Getting older, I’ve taken on much more responsibility and that makes life all the more serious and stressful. Knowing that I have my mom to lean on and laugh with is a tremendous help and blessing. I don’t know what I would do if I was unable to talk to my mom every day.

Over the years, I’ve had the watched my mom become more and more devoted to her daily Bible reading and prayer. She sets an amazing example through her devotion to prayer and studying God’s word. I love to find her notes of encouragement on my bed or in my car. She always seems to know exactly when I need them most.

Obviously, just like most others, my mom taught me many important things, but my mom has taught me many things that only a special woman can. She has taught me how to be hospitable and courteous. She has taught me proper etiquette and tact. She has taught me how to act like a lady, but still be strong and independent. She has shown me what a good mother and wife looks like. Through my mom’s life experiences, she has been able to give me advice on things that only she could understand. There is a lot of advice that I wish I would have listened to when she gave it to me a few years ago. My mom had to put up with my attitude and grumpy ways for a good bit of my teenage years. I know it was hard on her because we had such a close relationship and then all of a sudden I just hid out in my room all the time. I’m glad my mom doesn’t hold a grudge or stay bitter or hurt for very long because, even though I’m stupid sometimes, I always need my mom! Things are much different now. I love hanging out with my mom! Maybe I can make up for my stupid teen years now! I hope I can be as good a mom as my mom is to me. If my daughter thinks of me with only half the respect, love and gratitude as I do of my mom, I think I will have succeeded.

My Dad

There are so many things I could write about my dad, I don’t even know where to start! My dad and I have always had a very special relationship. Growing up, my dad and I did many things together. But dad made sure it wasn’t just things he wanted to do. He has always made an effort to show interest in and support the things I love. I have tried to do the same with the things he loves, one of those things being hunting. I remember the first time my dad took me hunting. My mom, being the “worry wart” that she is, did not want me to freeze out in the cold and, in turn, piled on the clothes. I had on more layers than Aunt Sherri’s 7 layer salad! It was all I could do to breathe, much less walk. I couldn’t even talk because of the scarves and hats. Dad walked in the room, ready to go, and I just stood there with tears streaming down my face. Then, mom decided to peel a few layers off so I didn’t look so much like the Michelin man. So, hunting isn’t exactly my thing, but I had, and still have, a great time just being with my dad. The most recent hunting trip my dad and I took last season was also a memorable one. Not because we got a big buck, but rather, a big laugh. It was just dad and me on this occasion. I tried to convince my sister, Sarah, to go but she had already gotten a deer and insisted that it was my turn. So off we went into the woods. Dad and I had been sitting in the shooting house for about an hour. Just sitting, waiting and watching. The sun was setting and it was starting to get a little darker. Everything was quiet when, all of a sudden, this bird flew into the shooting house through the small opening right behind my head. Well, of course, I screamed and commenced to flailing and flapping my arms all around until the bird flew back out. Dad looked over at me like I’d lost my mind, and with an alarmed expression, I replied, “A bird just flew in here!” Well, I didn’t really know if he was going to be mad or not, but when he burst out in laughter, we both just sat there and laughed.  Needless to say, after all the commotion, we didn’t see very much wildlife, but Dad didn’t seem to mind. 

One example of Dad making an effort to do things that I enjoy would be our annual trip to the Holiday Market. I can remember Dad checking me out of kindergarten early to take me to the Holiday Market in Montgomery. I thought it was the coolest thing to get out of nap time to go shopping with Dad.  My dad is NOT a shopper and isn’t the type to go shopping with mom for clothes or groceries or anything! But when dad took me to the Holiday Market, just us two, it made me feel more special than I’m sure he ever imaged. We have gone to the Holiday Market every year since, and I feel so proud and special walking around a civic center full of ladies with my dad.

Another example is when I started to bake and sell “Hannah Banana Bread.” I was about eleven or twelve years old when I began baking banana bread. My dad helped me print labels to put on them that said, “Hannah Banana Bread” and helped me by selling them to the secretaries at his office. He encouraged my hard work and one time asked me to bake banana bread at church for one of the meetings he was chairing. I brought all my ingredients to the church, mixed everything up and put it in the oven to bake during the first half of the meeting. When I took the bread out, it looked perfect, but I cut into it and it was runny mush. The ovens at the church were much different than mine and it cooked the bread too fast. I was so upset and began crying when dad came into the kitchen to see if the bread was ready (I really don’t cry that often!). He was nothing but compassionate and understanding. I was afraid he would be frustrated that he didn’t have anything to serve at the meeting, but he assured me that it was no big deal. After the meeting, he took me to the mall to a music store and we each bought a CD. I remember buying an Alan Jackson CD. Dad and I deemed “Living on Love” by Alan Jackson our song a long time ago. I’m not sure exactly why or when we decided it would be our song, but every time I hear it, I think of my Dad.

I could go on and on with stories about my dad and me, but there simply isn’t enough room to do so.  It’s so cliché, but it really is the little things that mean the most. The little things that my dad has done, and continues to do, make him a great father and role model. When he shows up at my work to bring me lunch or just to say “hey,” or the little notes he leaves for me, or when he sends me a postcard, even though I live with him, or when he takes the time to talk to me or listen when I need to talk, or when he comes to a midget ballgame to see me coach a bunch of little cheerleaders for twenty minutes, or when he calls me sugar and tells me he loves me every night and I know that he really means it with all of his heart.

Two of my dad’s favorite heroes, I guess you would say, are John Wayne and Robert E. Lee. My dad reminds me of both of these men. Like Robert E. Lee, my dad is wise, courageous, loyal and a true gentleman. Like John Wayne, he is strong, blunt, stern, and he definitely has grit! But the most important trait found in my dad will outlast all the good times, memories and other honorable attributes. He is the godliest man I know. I don’t know many people who can say that about their father, but my dad lives the life of a true follower of Jesus Christ. When someone talks about seeing Jesus lived out in someone’s life, that’s my dad. Of course he has flaws, as does everyone, but in everything he does, he genuinely seeks to follow the Lord. He aims to honor the Lord in everything he says and does. Every morning, when I see his pen, journal and Bible on the table where he had his devotions a few hours before, I am reminded of the great man that I am so privileged to be able to call my dad.

More than just family

I am now into my senior year of college and I am still living at home with my whole family. This doesn't seem that odd to me because most of my friends still live at home with their parents too. I suppose I'll move out eventually, but I'm in no hurry. This may make me sound like a girl who has no boyfriend, likes to hang out with her parents on Friday nights, and plays board games with the family for fun. And this would be completely true. =) I used to be a lot more concerned with my image and what people thought about me, but now I am coming to realize the most important things in life are right in front of me. My family has become one of my favorite groups of friends. Now, of course, I still have work friends, school friends and best friends that I enjoy hanging out with all the time, but if I ever find I'm at home on a weekend with nothing to do, it's perfectly fine with me because my family is there! I used to wish so badly that I had some friends to get an apartment with so I could move out. And, while that would be fun and I wouldn't mind doing that one day, I am in no rush to move out. I now realize that once I move out, I most likely won't move back in with my parents...EVER! So, since I've got the rest of my life to be on my own, I'm perfectly fine with living at home and enjoying the company of my family while we're all still living together. And that leads me to the point of this blog post. My family's birthdays are all very close together. My dad's- September 18; my mom's - September 27; my brother's - September 30; and my sister's - October 14. I have decided to write a blog post about each of them on their birthday, just describing how I feel about each one of them. I take so many things for granted and too often overlook the many blessings God has given me. God has blessed me with a wonderful family and I couldn't have hand picked a better one!

Change

Bethlehem Family Camp Meeting has always been a big part of my life. I’ve been going since I was born and always look forward to it every year. When I was younger I would count down the days until camp all year long. It’s a time of relaxation, drawing closer to the Lord, and enjoying time with friends. I’ve always felt a sense of ownership in the camp. My great grandparents gave the land for the camp and my family on my mom’s side makes up a big part of the camp meeting attendance. I always feel closest to the Lord when I’m at camp meeting, and the feeling I feel when I first step onto the campground year after year is a feeling I cannot explain. But year after year, things change. I grow older, friends come and go, and the older I get, the more I realize that things will never be the same. That realization gives me a deep sadness that is unexplainable. It’s more than sadness though; it’s as if I’ve lost a good friend forever. I think back on the memories and I long to relive those days; the days when life was much simpler. This year my family and I went to Bethlehem Camp for just one night. I wanted to go to camp, but I hate how camp reminds me of change and how things will continue to change. As much as I wanted to enjoy camp this year, I had to fight off the feeling that something was missing. I have the relentless longing to go back to the days in the Sonseekers and youth program. It’s ironic how back then I couldn’t wait to grow up; Now that I’m older, I want to go back. I guess now I realize that my problems back then are nothing compared to problems when you grow older, and become an adult. Maybe it isn’t change that I don’t like, but the fact that things in my life have not turned out exactly how I’d imagined they would. The changes are not what I expected them to be. I’ve come to a point in my life where I don’t know what to expect the future to be like…and honestly, it scares me. I know if I trust in the Lord, He will guide me every step of the way. But not knowing what to expect when moving forward is kind of nerve-wracking. With everything and everyone changing around me and everyone going in different directions, it’s easy to get confused and discouraged. I know that I should not spend so much time and energy, looking back, but it’s just so hard for me to accept change and move on. I’ve always had a problem dealing with change. Even when I was younger and couldn’t wait to grow up, I still had an attachment to the past. I remember when I turned eight years old, I told my dad that I was just going to stay eight forever. I thought eight was a good age and I didn’t really want to grow up. I remember when the first new addition to our church was being built. I was probably ten or eleven years old. They had to change part of the old portion of the church to build the new addition and I didn’t like it one bit! I remember talking about it with my choir director, Mrs. Diane, who I looked up to very much. She told me that she was sad that the church wouldn’t be the same, but the change was necessary for our church to grow and that was good because more people would come to know the Lord. It wasn’t too long after the new addition that Mrs. Diane and her husband, Byron, moved away and that was even harder for me to deal with. The summer before my senior year of high school, my youth pastor at my church was replaced. I was extremely close to him and this change came without any warning. To this day, it’s still hard for me to go to church without thinking of my days in youth with him and my close friends, who mostly have all moved away. So, I would definitely say I have an issue with change. Sometimes I worry about how I’m going to deal with the not-so-pleasant changes of growing old. I know that’s far down the road, but I have bad feeling that I won’t handle it well. Change is an inevitable occurrence in life, and I’ve got to learn to deal with it. Ecclesiastes 7:10 says, “Do not say, ‘Why were the old days better than these?’ For it is not wise to ask such questions.” God does not intend for us to live in the past or long for it. He has plans for our future and I need to learn to look forward to what He has in store for my future as I daily walk with Him. There is one thing I know for sure will never change. In Hebrews 13:8 it says, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today, and forever.” Jesus is never changing. He is always the same and will always be the same. How cool is that? I serve a Savior that will never change! When I get depressed or sad about everything and everyone changing around me, all I have to do is go to my Savior, and He will be there. Just like He always has been and always will be. And when I go to places where Jesus’ presence abides, like Bethlehem Camp and my church, I need to remember that the reason I go to these places is to worship my God and to learn more about Him. And He hasn’t changed one bit! I shouldn’t be sad, but rejoice in the fact that my Savior is constant. Psalm 102:27 says, “But you remain the same, and your years will never end.” What an amazing truth! My God isn’t going anywhere and never, ever will!

So, I’m going to try and focus on the future and what the Lord has in store for me. I have missed out on many things already because I let my emotions control my thoughts and actions. I’m going to give the Holy Spirit a chance to lead me before my sentimentality gets the best of me! My happiness should not depend on the constancy of the people or places in my life. God’s will for me (and every Christian!) is to follow after Him. And if that’s what I’m doing, I will find contentment and happiness. True happiness.

it still hurts

sometimes i feel like noone really understands me. i feel like im always holding in my real feelings. it's like i try so hard to appear strong in front of everyone else and after a while, when it all builds up, i just explode (when im alone of course). i just don't want to seem weak or be that "woe is me" type of person. i think people forget that some hurt and pain takes longer to heal than others. and some doesn't heal at all. I just get mad when my friends assume that I'm O.K. and don't bother asking how I'm really doing. I know they don't mean to overlook my feelings, but I'm not the type to just talk about my problems without being asked. sometimes even then i just say "i'm fine" because it's easier to pretend i'm fine. but then when someone else talks about their problems, i just want to say, "well that's nothing compared to what i go through!" i guess everybody wants some sympathy sometime....i just wish that i didn't have to complain about my problems to get it!

Right things, wrong reasons

Mom and I just joined a women’s bible study on Sunday night at our church. We went last Sunday for the first time. We didn’t have our book yet so Mrs. Barbara (the group leader) made us copies of the first week’s lessons. We said that we would get our books and have them by next Sunday’s meeting. Mom and I also signed up to cook the meal for our next meeting. Little did we know that the coming week would be a very long and hectic week!

One of my best friends’ mom, Lisa Wilson, went to the hospital Monday with bleeding on her brain and found out she had an inoperable mass in her brain. She was in the hospital from Monday until Thursday when they released her. She will begin radiation treatments next week. I was not physically able to do anything because I had to either work or go to school Monday through Saturday, but my thoughts and prayers were with my best friend’s family all week. Mom went to the hospital to see Mrs. Lisa on Tuesday and planned to go Thursday but was pleasantly surprised to hear that the hospital had released her.

My dad has also been sick with bronchitis this entire past week. So, needless to say, my mom and I completely forgot to get a book for our Bible study and did not even think about the supper we agreed to make. Around two o’clock this afternoon as I was heading to my room for my Sunday afternoon nap, I remembered that we had to make supper for the group. I told mom and she said exactly what I figured she would: “Oh my gosh! I completely forgot!” We decided to go to Wal-Mart before church and get something to throw together. On our way to Wal-Mart, we planned who would run get what, as not to waste any time because we were already running late. Sarah ran (and when I say ran, I really mean ran) to get some tea. I ran to get something sweet, and mom went to get the meat for sandwiches (I think mom’s running days are over). We finally got checked out and on our way to church after rushing through Wal-mart for about thirty minutes.

When we got to church, we ran to the kitchen to prepare everything, then ran upstairs to our meeting room and set it all out. In the process, I left my purse in the kitchen, which has our copy of the week’s lesson in it. After everyone eats and things get started, mom and I realize that we don’t have our copy of the lesson or our Bibles. The only thing we were thinking about, as we ran out the door, was the supper. Not the fact that we were going to a Bible study and might need our Bibles! To make matters worse, Mrs. Barbara mentions that Mrs. Carol is just joining us tonight for the first time and just got her book this afternoon to which Carol responds, “Oh, but I’ve gotten today’s lesson completed.” I look at mom with a huge smile on my face and it took all my energy to keep from dying laughing. Mom and I had copies of the past week’s lesson but hadn’t even looked at it. Mrs. Carol just got her book and was already ahead of us!

As Mom and I sat there in the Bible study tonight, the only ladies without Bibles or books, I realized that we had gotten way off track. We had focused so little on the Bible study. We were too busy with our daily lives to sit down and let the Lord speak to us. I signed up for the Bible study simply because I thought it would look bad if I didn’t. I am currently the Young Adult Coordinator for our church. Since I couldn’t get a group started for young adults, I felt obligated to join another group. It wasn’t until tonight that I realized, I have been doing so many things (most of them good) all for the wrong reasons.

I haven’t been taking enough time to really listen to what it is God wants me to do. Instead, I’ve just been doing what I think He would have me do.