The Kitchen Table

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.” ~ Jesus.

From what I've read and heard, Heaven sounds spectacular. It's hard to wrap your head around the splendor. Most people have heard of pearly gates and streets of gold - but I wonder if people ever just sit and ponder the sheer beauty of Heaven. Streets of gold. What does that look like? Each gate is made from one pearl. Either that's a really big pearl or a very small gate. It's more than we can fathom. I don't think in our human-ness we can comprehend just what a glorious place it really is. It's not just clouds with fat, naked cherubs playing harps. It is a real place with real people, real buildings and my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ there with the Father.

The grandeur of Heaven is beyond my mind's imaginaton. I can visualize streets of gold - but only by what I know gold to be. This gold is so pure that it looks as clear as water. Around the golden city are grand, high walls of Jasper, crystal clear and gleaming and adorned with countless numbers of the richest rubies, sapphires, emeralds and every kind of precious stone. Magnificent angels sit atop the 12 open gates of pearl with outstretched wings as far as the eyes can see and bands of angels everywhere you look to welcome the saints. The most fragrant flowers, a light dusting of sparkle everywhere, sweet music of praise fills the air and every corner is set aglow by the light of the Precious Lamb.

According to Revelation 22, the Garden of Eden will be there, fully restored, as "...the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flows from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city." And there at the mouth of the river, alongside the tree of life sits our Savior, our Father God and the saints casting their crowns at the feet of Jesus. I try to imagine the most wonderous scene and then multiply that by higher than numbers can reach - and then it might scrape the surface of how good and lovely Heaven is.

Reading Revelation gives us an exquisite peek into the awe-struck wonder of Heaven. But as incredible as all that sounds, for me - I believe Heaven holds even more than that! There's a kitchen table in Heaven and it's set with brown-ware dishes. There's chicken-shaped set of salt and pepper shakers and a napkin holder at one end. Around the table are ladder-back chairs with rush seats and a homely patina on the older wood. There are knick-knacks in the kitchen and charming, albeit a little dated, wallpaper on the walls. It smells like breakfast - good, country breakfast and it's as inviting as you could imagine. The coffee is hot and the conversation is interesting. Things are as good as they can be in this little 'room' inside my father's house. Sitting in the chairs around the table, my grandmother is there, my aunt Ne-ne and Lynn. There's laugher, love, family and every good thing. All beautiful and well in their restored bodies and they are praising their savior together. My brother is standing behind Maw, probably picking up little bites of food so anxious to eat some home-cooking even before it's ready! Timmy's there with NeNe and Darrell's by the stove cooking the meal. Just over in the next room Doug is sitting in the rocking chair listening to my daddy play "Just a Closer Walk With Thee". When I think "Heaven" it's the scene I mostly see.

But something has changed lately in my sweet vision of Eternity. I never noticed before but now by the table there's an empty chair. My beautiful family is making plans for a homecoming. They've put on more coffee and set another place. They are rejoicing in the good news of my sweet mother's salvation and are ready to welcome their sister, their wife, their daughter, their mother home. Soon my mother will be at the feet of her Savior and in the arms of her beloved family. And there is no place on Earth she would rather be.

I'm by my mother's bedside. Her breathing has slowed and it's short time now. I've told her that Matthew and I will be fine. I thanked her for being the best mother and grandmother anyone could be blessed with - and I was happy she was mine. I'm sad for me but I'm excited for her. The end of this life is just the door that opens to the little kitchen table. And so she'll go before me and then one day she will set a place for me. And we can cast our crowns at Jesus' feet and stand in His glory forever together as family.

Emergency Contact Information

I'm sure you've heard it said "It's better to give than receive." It really is true. But be honest. Have you ever given some wonderful thing to someone, gotten nothing in return and then tried to convince yourself that you weren't really disappointed? "Oh well, it 'is' better to give than receive..." I've said that. I have smarted with the sting of selfish disappointment and tried to make it ok with sarcastically saying just that. More than once. But then Jesus decided He was ready to show me what that phrase really meant. It's not a band-aid for hurt feelings. It really is better to give than receive. When you do for others and give out of the overflow of God's love for you, you don't need to receive. The real joy is in the giving! And then, when you're 'truly' not expecting anything in return you suddenly see yourself covered in God's blessings being poured on you! Proverbs 11:25 says, "The one who blessed others is abundantly blessed; those who help others are helped".

When Jesus decided it was time for me to find a church he led me into one that uses "Love In Action" as a slogan. Go and Tell, Be Jesus, Random Acts of Kindness, Love in Action - meeting the needs of people practically and spiritually. This is not the kind of stuff a spoiled rotten, self-absorbed, selfish one time "daddy's girl" is good at! There would be no sitting on a pretty pew, getting my feel-good message for the week and being on my way. No. If I was going to stick around I was going to have to go out and get dirty for some cause. I would have to talk to some street-person or help someone. "Nobody better ask me for any money", I thought. I really don't want to extend myself in anyway...

But then something started to happen. The more I fell in love with Jesus the more I actually wanted to go out there and do something for someone! It didn't matter who and it didn't matter what. I just needed to go. And go I did. Working alongside my church family I've given without any expectation of receiving. Just giving because Jesus loves me so much that I "can't not".

Last month our church had an entire month of "Compassion Events". We did everything from cook breakfast for homeless people to singing hymns for people with special needs. None of that was any kind of hard work. No hard, physical anything, no danger, no dirt. Just showed up with a little love in my heart for people in need. But there was this one place that was going to separate the men from the boys. Kings Daughters Ministry was a lady's vision coming to life. In time it will be a beautiful center for troubled women and their children. A place to live and grow and learn in a Christian environment. The vision sounded lovely. But at that time the building was a damp, dark, dirty old mill building with rusty metal stuff, stained and leaky ceilings and broken windows. There was heavy stuff to be moved, trucks to be unloaded, hard labor to do. Even walking around the place was physical as it was like a mile from one end to the other. The work was going to be so intense that the lady asked us to sign a release form! She had some volunteers and by goodness she was going to get her 'money's worth' - and if we happened to fall down and break a leg or something, well, that was going to be at our own risk!

I was standing in the office filling out my release form. Name, check. Address and Phone Number, got it. In Case Of Emergency, Please Contact _______________________. And I came up empty. Mom was my usual Emergency Contact Information. But she was sick that day. If I fell down the stairs there was going to be no one to call - I was going to have to manage that on my own. I just stood there, a little caught off guard with that question. And then I felt horribly lonely. How can someone really have no one to contact in case of an emergency? How did I become so alone?! How sad. My feel-good feeling was slipping away. "Um, I don't really have an emergency contact today so I'm just going to leave this part blank", I tried to joke about it. "If I get a concussion, I'll be fine without calling the emergency number!" The lady didn't really get my humor. And let's face it... what was even funny about that?! And then one of the men from my church, Steve McCotter- who was filling out his own form - said, "Put me down".

No one was actually expected to get hurt - the form was just a formality. But let me tell you... having no one to list as an emergency contact is a desperate, horrible feeling. In that moment's time I ran the gammit of the 'what-ifs' and in my mind I went from a day of "Love in Action" to I'm going to catch tetnus from an old rusty cart because I had no one to call for a ride to urgent care and little Matthew would become an orphan. And then in one sentence - the 3 little words, "Put me down" Steve gave me someone to contact in case of emergency. Steve put himself on the hook for me. He accepted the job of springing into action if I were accidentally run over by a fork-lift! As he called out his number to me he inadvertantly offered me a sence of peace, a comfortable feeling, I felt cared about and mostly I no longer felt alone. He volunteered to be in charge of me in the event I couldn't be in charge of myself. How wonderful and selfless. That's a big responsibility to be that emergency go-to for someone. I'm sure he thought nothing of it. But later in the day I was teary-eyed over the thoughts. It was the finest example of "Love in Action". I'll never again take that question on any standard release form for granted. And I'll never again have to worry about it. So in case of emergency, please contact Steve McCotter!

It might not have been a gift wrapped in a pretty package - but while I was giving I received the best blessing - just like Proverbs 11:25 promised.

Having an emergency contact is super important. And if that's all I ever got from church that would be plenty.... but there's more. I'm writing tonight from mom's bedside at the hospital. She's become sicker, still. I should be a basket case, nervous wreck and sad as sad can be. I'm alone here with mom since dad and my brother have passed away and I'm nearly overwhelmed with information, decisions, phone calls. Instead, for this minute anyway, I'm fine. My church family has come to my aid. They have prayed for my mom's health and they have prayed for me - that I have the kind of peace that can only come from God. They have stood with me at my mother's bedside. They've taken care of my sweet son for the last few days and they've loved on him like he was theirs. So many people have offered help to me that I've had to say "Thank you, but there's really nothing else I need". "Well let me know as soon as there is something..." they would respond. A gang of church ladies came to my house the other night and washed my dishes. There is nothing I've needed, not an hour passes that someone hasn't checked in with me. Most importantly - because of these beautiful people I am not alone. I had no idea of the value of a church family. What a blessing! What a beautiful blessing that God has given me! And finally I see the importance of landing in the 'love in action' church!

I could write all night (really all morning - it's nearly 4am). But I'm calling it a night. It won't be long before the room fills with people wanting to help me with something. It's the most awesome dilemma! So I better get some sleep. Good night for now.

Go and Tell Beats Sit and Stew Anyday!

Anyone who knows me knows I adore my church! I love the all of Tuckaseege Baptist Church. It's history, the land it sits on, the windows, the carpet, the people, my sunday school class, the pastor, the message, the music, the whole sum of Tuckaseege Baptist Church makes my heart swell with pride. When I became a member I became part owner. I love her, that church. It's God's house and I'm most happy when I'm in His presence there. But...

After last night's business meeting I came away from there all sideways and ill-feeling. I know we have to discuss budgets and meetings and business stuff. But the disagreements over the silliest things just makes me tired! I don't get how people can be so, well, just mad. Mad about everything and all the time. But that's the thing about church. It's full of people. The people - all of them - make up the church and like it or not, agree or disagree, we're all in this thing together! I've heard it said "If you find the 'perfect' church, don't join it! You'll just mess it up!"

People are emotionally-driven, self-absorbed beings! Even when we try real hard not to be! It's part of the challenge of being a Christian. Because we're not perfect - nothing will ever be perfect! No one can be 100% happy 100% of the time so I'm not going to worry about it anymore! The color of the carpet - even though it matters a great deal to people - won't get a single soul into Heaven. Neither will singing hymns from the Baptist Hymnal, the best audio/visual equipment money can buy, a finely tuned Building and Grounds committee, coming in under budget or over budget, or the pastor sporting Chuck Taylor kicks. At the end of the day the ONLY thing that matters is the Good News of Jesus Christ! By His Grace I am saved! Not by Grace and candlesticks dedicated to someone's great grandfather back in the 1940's but by His Grace alone! If someone wants to come to church to be all mad, complaining and looking for an opportunity to pounce on someone for disagreeing with the status-quo well so be it. Rest assured, I will be ignoring it from now on. Peter, who loved and trusted Jesus very much, while walking on the water took his eyes off Jesus for only a moment and he started to sink. The Devil can and will use anything and anybody to cause us distraction. I will never, ever come out of my church in worse shape than when I walked in ever again. When I'm inside the 4 walls of my beloved TBC I will worship God, praise His Holy name, do his work and no matter what I will keep my eyes on Jesus! And only Jesus. Loving Jesus is easy. Church - ain't for the faint of heart!

That was last night. But let me tell you about tonight. For the month of February our pastor has put together many different 'compassion events' - different opportunities to serve the community while showing the love of Christ. "Love in Action", based on 1 John 3:18. Tonight six of us went along with the pastor to a place called The Gastonia Street Ministry. It's just a little place on the west side of downtown that serves meals and a sermon to people who are basically homeless or on drugs or generally down on their luck. Our team walked in, said hello to the people the ministry serves and made our way into the seats. I sat in a blue, plastic chair that was too small for my behind. On the wall behind the pulpit was a giant cross crudely built out of particle board. Nothing matched, it smelled a little musty and the greenery in the "sanctuary" was 2 plastic and silk ficas trees that could have used a good dusting. Absent was the plush, cranberry carpeting, intricately carved, oak furniture, brass collection plates and ornate, stained glass windows. Also missing were any mad people, nit-pickers, worryers and anyone there to somehow fill their religion quota for the week. The people came to 'church' to hear the word of God and to praise and worship their savior. That is all. And nothing else mattered. At all. I felt so comfortable there sitting beside my down-trodden brothers and sisters. My heart was fresh, my mind was clear and I was ready to receive the word God had for me and the others gathered.

When they took up the colletion, someone actually put pennies in the plate. Pennies!! And the people of the ministry were so, so grateful. I can't explain the feeling other than it made me cry when the man who took up the plate reminded us of the poor widow in Luke 21. "As he looked up, Jesus saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury. He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. "I tell you the truth," he said, "this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on." We really were in the middle of the people that Jesus had such as heart for! I was overcome with emotion and love.

And then my pastor stepped up to the mic. He was dressed in faded jeans, a flannel shirt over a tee-shirt and some black Chuck Taylors. No one cared. And he brought his gift - the most raw, unadorned, real, humble and perfect message I've ever heard him do. He was truly free. There would be no judgement, no critiques, no complaints. There was no one to impress, no one was inadvertantly insulted, no hurt feelings. Just sheep to his shepherd. He stood in the makeshift church and told homeless people to REJOICE! Told us all despite any bad circumstances we might ever find ourselves in to rejoice in the Lord, Jesus Christ! At the end of the day, he said, "If we have Jesus nothing else matters." He said that and meant it and its true! The people agreed with him - even while we were sitting in too small plastic chairs in a room with no carpet anywhere!

We plated up pizza and handed out donated drinks for the people, spent sometime talking with the guests and even little Matthew handed out Bibles to anyone who might need one. Then we packed up our van and left. I will never, ever forget this night. It will be the night I remember fondly when business meeting nights go south at my church. I wish that every member of TBC could go serve dinner just one time at Gastonia Street Ministry. Stuff like song selections, hairstyles, flower budgets and second phone lines - although important - wouldn't matter much anymore!

The Bobo

I have spent the last 40 summers trying to avoid the haze and humidity of the South. Truly, I hate it and towards the end of August I desperately search for any signs that summer is trying to pack its bags and go. Retail stores here in the South must hate it too as they always seem to change the seasons in the showrooms well before it’s time! Halloween candy makes its way to the shelves along with the back-to-school sales and the Christmas décor shows up in September. I’ve heard many complain about this but I cannot complain! For me it’s a sweet reminder that the hazy days of summer will be a thing of the past and soon I’ll be basking in the crisp fall air, eating Thanksgiving dinner with my family and picking out just the right Christmas tree! Oh glorious cooler weather! How I love you so!

One day my little son Matthew and I trudged through the thick, humid soup down to the local Wal-Mart. Matt must’ve been about 4 ½ at the time. I put him in the buggy and we set out to get a few things. A sparkle caught my eye and before I knew it I was standing in the garden center, already transformed into a Christmas-themed winter wonderland and glowing in all its tinsel, glitter and twinkling lights. We slowly laced our way through the aisles, Matthew looked on quietly and I, leaning on the handle of our squeaky cart, gazed at all the holiday goodness. I got lost in the joy of it all. I momentarily lost awareness of the things going on around me while I daydreamed of a white Christmas and made mental notes of cookies I would bake, cards I would send and gifts I would give. Then we rounded the last corner and I was chunked back into reality. We went on through the store picking up mundane garbage bags, boring cat litter, a few uninspiring groceries and very definitely nothing sparkly. It wasn’t until we got to the checkout line that I realized Matthew didn’t have his Bobo.

“Matthew, where’s your Bobo?” I questioned my son. He looked all around him and he couldn’t answer me. “Did you leave it in the car?”

“I don’t know”, he said. And his precious face started to show concern. His eyes widened a little and his cheeks pinked up. Outwardly I remained calm but something was kicking me in the pit of my stomach. “What if Bobo is gone?! How could we even sleep tonight or go anywhere tomorrow!? THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!!” I screamed to myself.

“It’s probably in the car”, I assured him calmly. “We’ll check out and then we’ll make sure it’s in the car before we leave”. His chin quivered as he nodded in agreement.

To most, Bobo could only be described as a blue blanket, raggedy looking and thin, stained with purple paint and dotted with a few crude, hand-stitched repairs. If anyone got close enough to it they could even say it smelled funny, depending on the last time it was washed. But to Matthew that raggedy blanket was his most important and highly valued possession. Bobo was his companion when he was lonely, his comforter when he was sick and his security when he was scared. It never left his side, it never hurt his feelings and it never failed to cover him. It did these things for Matthew not as a blanket does but as a loving protector does, like a shield or a shelter. But most of all, Bobo was his friend; a cherished and very much loved friend.

We reached the car. The anxiety built up in me as I tried not to think about a new world without Bobo. As much as Matthew loved that blanket, I loved it for him. How would my baby get to sleep tonight without that blue wad of material curled up under his chin? How would I console him? “Oh please be in the car”, I thought. I was nearly praying about it.

Bobo wasn’t in the car. We made our way back into the store and hurriedly retraced our steps. Perhaps it was in the Christmas aisles, where my mind’s eye was decking the halls rather than paying attention to the Bobo dropping out of the cart. It wasn’t there. It wasn’t in the pet department or the grocery aisles either. Bobo was nowhere to be found. I felt panicked and Matthew started to cry. I tried to reassure him we would find it and everything would be ok but nothing I could have said to him would have given him the comfort he needed. This was the kind of stuff that Bobo was good for. I saw fear that I couldn’t calm. I was “Just Mommy” and short of finding Bobo there was nothing I could do to make this all better. All I could do was stand there in a heap of nervous uncertainty and watch tears roll down my baby’s face.

The line at customer service seemed to be a mile long with early Christmas shoppers already returning stuff. This was an emergency and worthy of line-jumping, I thought. I tried to make eye contact with the overworked and exasperated cashier but she never looked up.

“I’m sorry, excuse me”, I interrupted, and the lady finally noticed me and my crying son. I could feel the glares coming from the people in line. I couldn’t blame them at all. Time is tight and a line has rules, no matter what kind of emergency a lady might think she has. “Has anyone turned in a dingy, blue blanket?” I asked the clerk as I stroked Matthew’s hand or rubbed his back trying to somehow soothe him. The lady held up a finger, signaling me to wait until she got finished with her current customer.

We stepped to the side and let her do her job. As I stood there with my crying and worried son the people in line seemed to soften their stares. They must’ve realized the situation we were in and I’m sure that many a parent could relate to a security item once loved by a kid of their own. And anyone with a heart could plainly see that my son was hurting. The shoppers were now invested in our plight and if a few more minutes were added to their already stretched-thin day, then so be it. They wanted us to find the blanket now as much as we did.

When the cashier finished with her customer, she said she would go check the lost and found bin. She returned within seconds empty handed. I was so disappointed. Then she said, “Let me look under here”, as she stooped over and walked down entire length of the customer service counter. I think I held my breath. She got to the end, stood up straight and with a blue blanket in her hand said “Is this it?!”

I exhaled and even burst into tears! Some precious shopper had found the Bobo and returned it! Matthew ran over to the lady, stretched out his arms and embraced his dear, found friend. “Bobo!” he exclaimed as the cashier smiled and cried. I thanked the lady several times, took Matthew by the hand and turned to leave. Then I noticed several people in the line were crying along with us, happy this little story of “lost love with a twist” played out with a happy ending right in front of them. Bobo was now safely back in the arms of the one who loved it the most and all was right again in Matthew’s world. And I’m sure that Bobo was probably happy also!


In Matthew’s eyes, the cashier was a hero. To me the hero was the stranger that found the Bobo and took the time to turn it in. They saw past its raggedy appearance and thought that just maybe there’s a sad kid out there who loved that misplaced, dirty blanket. I’ve heard many times a Bible verse that talks about “Love in Action” but I never really understood it until I saw love all over Wal-Mart that day. I saw it in my son’s breaking heart, the stranger’s actions, the cashier’s compassion and the emotion of the people in line. Even Bobo the inanimate object showed love by offering security again to a little boy who was afraid that his most loved thing was gone.

Matthew is older now and Bobo doesn’t get out much anymore. But there will always be love in his heart for that blanket - a special kind of love that will never be tarnished by hurt, distrust or betrayal. It’s love the way love was meant to be; innocent, pure, hopeful, trusting and kind. If only we loved each other in the same way a child loves his blanket!

Becoming Butterfly

Nature - it's a good thing. Vast, beautiful and wonderous, full of spectacular phenomenons, undiscovered wildness and perplexing mysteries. At any turn of your head you can lay your eyes on God's handi-work, His attention to detail and His incredible eye for color and clarity and composition. The night skies, deep and endless, encrusted with supernatural dazzlers, until the sun breaks the darkness sending shards of light to rain down over fields of greens and oceans of blues. Every morning the birds awake in their nests of intricately woven strands of flora and fauna and sing their songs of praise and glory. God must smile and the break of every new day. His creations are, in a word ... miraculous!

How anyone could see God's art and summize that it was thrown together by some big bang is beyond me. Take the metamorphosis of a butterfly. The butterfly lays an egg on the underside of a leaf. It's held in place by some sort of sticky, butterfly glue that has yet to be understood by scientist. From the butterfly egg comes a caterpillar. To live, the creepy crawler instinctively eats the plant it was formerly attached to, growing quickly and nearly doubling in size daily. He leaves his home - the plant - in search of a safe place to start the next phase of his life. He attaches himself upside down to his next location and covers himself in a protective shell called a Chrysalis. Inside of there the final transformation takes place and the caterpillar emerges as a beautiful butterfly. Winged Jewels of the insect world, no two exactly alike and all perfectly designed. Yes God's design - it's all good!

During my time of unemployment this past summer, I had plenty of extra time on my hands. I spent a lot of time looking through the job listings and sending out my resume. I spent lot of the time in my study Bible learning things I'd never heard of and getting closer to God! I also got to spend a lot of time writing. (Truthfully, now that I'm safely employed I wouldn't subtract a minute of my 'off time'!) I wrote a lot and about all kinds of things. I entered a writing contest (which I'm still waiting to hear if I won!)and I submitted several things to the local newspapers. It always lifted my spirits to have my work published! And I'll admit it...during my season of unemployment, I probably spent too much time on Facebook. It's really no secret!

Of course part of the fun of facebook is looking up the long-lost friends from the past. I had pretty much found everyone from my past that I was interested in finding but there was one old friend of mine that just never showed up in Facebook. One day I "googled" his name and found him - in a prison in the mountains of North Carolina. I was so disappointed. Not really surprised but disappointed for sure. We both ran in the same circles doing the same kinds of things. Without knowing "what he was in for" I could only assume that the drugs he started using years ago must've caught up with him somehow. We all "partied" together back in the day but he took the 'party' to a level the rest of us weren't willing to go to. So eventually we all lost touch. I had no idea what happened to him between then and now that landed him in the the custody of the state. But for the grace of God there go I, I thought. I fought my own demons for years. I wasn't going to judge the guy. I was lucky I never got in more trouble than I did.

I hadn't seen or heard from him in 15 years. I had no idea what his life has been like, what crimes he did to land him in prison or if he would even remember me. But something was tugging at me. I had to write him and I needed to tell him about Jesus - I just had to know if he had a relationship with the Father. If he had Jesus no matter what mess the rest of his life might have been in I knew he would be ok. So I wrote the letter and sent it on its way.

He wrote me back right away. And I was happy to read that he did know Jesus Christ as his personal Savior and because my letter came right at the time it did he also believed that God answered prayers! He told me a little about his life and his current situation. And he confirmed my suspicions ... He had a long way to go in prison and he had just got there. He was grateful that I had written him and hoped that I would write again. He also said he was proud of me. He knew my past. He knew a lot about 'old me'. From the sound of my letter he guessed I had changed a lot over the last how-ever-many years.

We started writing back and forth. And because I had so much extra time on my hands my letters would become these epic, marathon letters with page after page after page of whatever was on my mind at the time. My letters were also full of the Good News of Jesus!! I would try to remember everything from Sunday's church service and write it all down. I would copy the notes from the bulletins or tell him whatever our last Sunday School lesson was about. Not a page was written that I didn't remind him that he was loved by God! He knew that. And he in turn would remind me of the same thing when I would try to get discouraged on the job search. I was honest with him about my own trials, troubles and addictions. "But for the Grace of God..." I thought that often as I wrote to him. It could have easily been me.

He said he loved reading my letters - he had plenty of time on his hands as well. Send the letters, as long a letter as you can write, he said! I sent him a Bible and I sent him some small Bibles to give to any of his fellow inmates that didn't have one. I felt like I was reaching out to other people in the prison that way, at the very least helping my friend perhaps plant a seed for someone there. And I sent him my blog posts, Facebook notes and articles. He said he enjoyed them. I got so much from this friendship and he did as well and it was just nice getting to know him.

For Father's Day this past year the Gaston Gazette published a piece I had written a couple years earlier called "Flowers For Father's Day". It was a sad little story I had written about a rose bush after my dad had passed away. I was so excited about it - not only was the article unedited but they also gave me a whole page, ran pictures of my dad and family and even had my picture with my name under it as the writer. It was the best looking article of mine I'd ever seen in print and I was so, so proud! I sent a copy to the prison along with a mile long letter all about the experience of getting it published! He said he loved the article so much that he read it to some of the men there. He said it made a few grown men get teary eyed! (I get that, I cried when I wrote it!) My writing, he said, softened up some hardened criminals!

So I'd been writing him for awhile and finally decided I would just go visit him. I didn't know what to expect when I got there. The only prison visits I had ever seen were on TV. I think had in mind something like stainless steel stools bolted to the floor and a conversation through thick, bulletproof glass and an old-school telephone receiver. It wasn't like that at all. You walked in, one prisoner visitor at a time and they sat you down at your own small, round table. There were rows of tables with the visitors sitting and waiting on their loved ones to come out. The prisoners came out one at a time - I guess for security reasons and made their way to the table that had their visitor sitting there. There was a young lady sitting at the table in front of mine waiting for her guy to come out. When her guy walked out she stood up to greet him. As he was walking towards his girl he looked at me. Then he looked at me again, almost like he knew me. I felt a little weird, honestly! He hugged his girlfriend and looked at me again. This time he said "I know you!"

It was the last thing I ever expected to hear in a prison visitor room in a medium security prison in the middle of the North Carolina Mountains. I'm sure his girlfriend didn't expect that either because she whipped around and looked at me like I just tried to steal her man! I'm sure I looked confused and all I could say was "Really?". He said, "Yes, you wrote the article about the flower. That was you!" And suddenly I was overly-too flattered. "Yes, that was me", I confidently responded. "Butterfly!", The guy said. "That was a good story", he finished and then started visiting with his girlfriend (probably because he knew what was good for him!)

"Butterfly?" I wondered. There was no butterfly in my story. Oh well. My friend made his way to my table and sat down. We'd both changed a lot, I decided. He was grey and my weight had doubled since the last time we saw each other. Oh well, happens to the best of us I guess! After some catching up I leaned in to quietly tell him the guy behind him recognized me. "He said he read my article", I told him. "A lot of the men read it", he responded. "They all loved it!" And he told me about more men getting sad, actually crying or talking about their own dads after reading it. I was really fond of the idea that something I had written had an effect on such a seemingly 'tough crowd'.

Still trying to keep my voice down so the next table over couldn't hear that I was talking about him I said to my friend, "He said something about a Butterfly".

"That's what we call you", he said. "Butterfly".

Evidently if you're in prison you get a nick-name. And a lot of times even the friends and family members of the prisoners get nick-names also. Turns out that I had a prison nick-name. (Another thing I never figured...). My prison nick-name was Butterfly.

"Butterfly? Why?" I questioned.

"Because you've changed". He continued. "I've told them about you, how I knew you and how we all were in the past. You were wrapped up in a cocoon of sin and addiction. But you got Jesus and you went through a change and emerged as a beautiful butterfly! You've spread your wings and you're flying! You're not a caterpillar crawling around on the ground anymore. You're free."

All of a sudden it occurred to me that I was a completely different person! When He saved me He also changed me! All those burdens I carried for so long had been cast off and I really was free from my sins. It might not have been all that obvious to me at the time but to a person who knew me a lifetime ago there was no denying the presence of my Savior in my life! I was so happy knowing that you could determine by my words and my actions that I was a true and happy follower of Christ! I felt like I had Jesus oozing through my pores! "Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them." ~ Matthew 7:20. Butterfly was validation. As complicated as metamorphosis was for a self-absorbed, careless, unloveable old sinner like me God loved me anyway and thought of me as worthy of transformation. By beautiful design, he turned me into a winged jewel in his glorious garden!


God will use any person and any situation for good. Sometimes you become one of His tools and you don't even know it. Through my old friend, I was able to be a witness to 'hardened prisoners'. I was an example of God being able to save a wretch like me. I don't know if anything I've said or written or been an example of has led anyone to Christ but I'm certain some seeds have been planted. My friend can do the watering - and hopefully the harvest! We make a good team that way! God's team!

So Butterfly it is ... and I like it. It's girly and sweet ... But having a prison nick-name also gives me street cred! :)

Six Degrees Of Separation, Part 4 - A Chance Meeting and the Kindness of Strangers

The summer had ended and it was time for Matthew to go back to school. We had a wonderful summer together and I was grateful for all the extra time I had to spend with him! But with him going back to school, it was time for me to get back to work. God had provided for me at every turn and I believed that he would continue to do so. But I wanted to get back to work. I wanted to pay my own way and do something productive. I needed to for my sake and my self-worth and for my son.

Meanwhile my church had been experiencing some "growing pains". I guess its bound to happen ... technology creeps in, song-styles change, preachers bring a fresh approach to the message. I understand how that can step on the toes of people who grew up there and liked how it 'was'. Change is hard - and harder for some than others. It seemed like the time had come to move into a more contemporary service style, although to me it seemed equally and nicely blended. I was fairly new there - I didn't see what the problem was, but then I never had anything to compare it too. Regardless, it was decided that we would go to a two-service model, having a 'classic' or traditional service and a contemporary or 'praise and worship' service. For the most part I think everyone agreed. But whether we all agreed or not, God seemed to be working in our church and we had to move in the direction He was sending us.

We had one more service 'together' before the 2nd service was going to start. Our little praise band was going to play and the choir was going to sing something a little more traditional. A blended service with a little something for everyone. And hopefully after everyone's tastes in music and attire were satisfied, maybe we'd have a little something to actually give to GOD. But God Himself had other plans that morning! There was an accident in our neighborhood and a car had taken out a power pole along with our power. It was lights out at Tuckaseege Baptist! It was late summer, steamy and getting hotter by the minute. They opened the doors of the sanctuary to the outside to let in some air and we fanned ourselves with the old hand-held church fans. Since we had no power for the video screens for our music we actually had to take out our Baptist Hymnals, turn to page so-and-so and sing to the piano. Pastor Jason rolled up hi shirt sleeves, stepped up to the pulpit sans amplification and delivered a sermon old-school, shouting loud enough for us all to hear and reading from his Bible. We had no power point presentations and no slide shows, no canned music or anything else. We may not have had electricity that day but rest assured the power came down on us by way of the Holy Spirit! Don't get me wrong, I like all the new stuff that my little church uses but that service was stripped bare and nothing but the message, God's word, God himself. It was awesome! And from the choir loft that morning I noticed a couple of visitors sitting behind Mrs. Katherine. I don't believe I'd ever seen them before. I was just hoping they would come again, maybe when the power was back on ... so they could see just what all we have going on!

After a chance meeting with mutual aquaintences in the local coffee shop, Jason was invited to lunch where he met the visitors. The man had grown up in a little country church - much like ours - and the woman had actually grown up in a Catholic church. They were looking for a church that they both would feel comfortable in. He liking the more traditional style and she a little more modern in taste. Jason told them about the 2-service model we were planning to start and suggested they come check us out. It turns out the man wasn't a fan at all of video screens, music accompaniment tracks or bands. But because the power was out that morning he loved the service! She wanted to come back the next week to see us in the lights! They did come back the following Sunday - and the man liked us still. Mrs. Katherine urged them to come again and invited them to our Sunday School class. I met them in Sunday School the next weekend. Tommy and Jodi Jinks. They were nice people, interesting and funny and I liked them right away. They seemed to like us too - a good fit - and I was happy they made their way to our sweet little church.

I think I wrote in an earlier blog post that during my season of unemployment my mailbox became a source of blessing. I never knew what would show up in there or when. One day I heard the mailman cramming something into the box. I went outside to see what it was. There was a smallish brown package in there from my friend Toni. Inside the package was a little book called The Prayer of Jabez by a fellow named Bruce Wilkinson. My little gang of Facebook friends had had a conversation about Jabez and his special prayer and Toni told me she had a copy she would send to me. In the Bible the book of Chronicles tells his story and how he prayed for God to bless him ... and God did. I started reading the book right away and finished it in fairly short time. The author suggested that being blessed by God wasn't just reserved for Jabez... and summized that receiving any kind of blessing was a way that you could bless others. In fact it was your responsibility to bless others using whatever tools He gave you! I liked that thought and it fell in line with how I'd been living lately. I wanted to help others - and when God made a way for me I would do what I could for someone else. The prayer itself is found in 1 Chronicles 4:10 which says, "Oh, that You would bless me indeed, and enlarge my territory, that Your hand be with me, and that you would keep me from evil, that I may not cause pain. So God granted him what he requested. The writer suggested I say that prayer everyday. God bless me, so I may be a blessing to others. So I did. I memorized that verse and recited it daily. Couldn't hurt.

One Sunday morning Matthew and I woke up early. He had been having trouble with his asthma and needed a breathing treatment. We missed Sunday school. We did make it to church in just enough time to climb into my seat in the alto section of the choir loft! The message was good and right on point with whatever was going on in my world that day. Jason was starting to wrap things up and asked us all to bow our heads to pray. While he was praying I started to talk to God myself with my personal plea. "Dear God", I said, "Thank you for blessing after blessing You've poured out on me. I know that You've heard my prayers and have answered them. You've fed us, sheltered us and clothed us. You've helped me keep the lights on, you've found me opportunities to reach out to people and you've given me a job to do in your church as a member of an outreach committee. Thank you dear Jesus, for everything Thing you've done." Jason continued to pray and so did I. "Dear Lord, it really is time for me to get back to work. You know how I'm feeling. And you know that I've been patiently waiting and using my time to do things that I hope pleases you. I thought you put it on me to somehow work in a church or some sort of ministry. If that's not the case, dear Lord, send me the job You'd have for me. Whatever it is I'll take it, I'll do it happily and I'll give you all the glory." And then I recited the Prayer of Jabez. Jason wrapped it up and church was over.

As I started walking down the steps of the choir loft, Jodi Jinks was coming up the steps. She said, "I heard you were looking for a job". Having just had that conversation with God, I was a little startled! "Yes I am", I responded. It turns out that while I wasn't in Sunday school that morning Mrs. Katherine brought me and my unemployment up to pray for. Jodi asked the class what I might have been looking for and Renee, the lady from the Salvation Army, told her how she wanted me to come and work for them. Thanks to an asthma attack my Sunday school class prayed for me and again, He answered the prayer! Jodi asked me what kind of work I was looking for and what kind of experience I had. She said she didn't want to get my hopes up and had no idea if her friends company was hiring but wanted me to send her my resume just in case. I emailed her my stuff as soon as I got home, this time very careful not to get my hopes up. However, there was something a little different about this one. And I had a peaceful feeling.

Monday morning came and went without word from anyone but Tuesday morning my phone rang. It was Jodi's friend - a lady from Cedar Management Company in Charlotte. They liked my resume and wanted me to come in for an interview. Could I be there Thursday morning, she asked. Of course I said YES! When I got to the place there was a big sign on the door saying "We are currently not accepting applications". That didn't look very promising, still I took a breath and walked on in. Thursday's interview must've gone well because they called me the next week and offered me the JOB!!!!! I was employed and to GOD BE THE GLORY! And it wasn't just any job - it was the job I asked Him for, the job my Sunday School class prayed for and the job that tracked me down as I was standing on the steps of the choir loft! This is the one He put me in and it could have been digging ditches or scrubbing floors with a toothbrush. It was mine and I loved it even before I got there!

My official title is "Mail Room Supervisor" and my job is sorting incoming mail and printing/packaging outgoing mail. Lots and lots and lots of mail! I prayed the Jabez prayer to "enlarge my territory" and he put me on mail-duty for 25,000 people whose Homeowners Associations we manage. And, "as luck would have it", they have a prayer meeting there every Wednesday morning! We're not praying to generic, politically correct "god" either, but to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ! As we were leaving for the Thanksgiving holiday the boss called us all into the conference room and asked us to name something we were thankful for. My job, of course I said. But I also said boldly to the room full of people that I was thankful for Jesus and my salvation. And my co-workers all agreed. It wasn't 'ministry' like I was expecting, but rest assured there's a ministry going on there. It's a wonderful place with wonderful people and I'm just to grateful to be a part of it. I'm excited to see how God is going to use me there!

So that's my "secret" for those who sarcastically asked me that over the summer. God is my big secret. I asked, believing that He would provide and He did. The biggest blessing of all turned out to be my season of unemployment itself - learning lessons, loving others, letting go, not worrying, utilizing my extra time to serve Him and praising God in the storm. Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." "All things" includes unemployment!

I'm excited for church in the morning. It's January 1st, 2012 and my dear Christian sister, Jodi Jinks will be getting baptized! Several of her friends, some being my new co-workers are coming to witness her public display, proclaiming her faith in Christ! Thus completing my Six degrees of Separation by the Grace of God chain of events! Thank you for reading!


"I will praise thee, O Lord my God, with all my heart: and I will glorify thy name for evermore." Psalm 86:5

Six Degrees of Separation, Part 3 - Facebook Friends and a Can of Pringles

Days and months past and I was still painfully unemployed. But I put my faith in God that He would take care of me while I paddled urgently to stay afloat. He sustained me indeed. My needs were met and occasionally He would even take care of my 'wants' as well!

I was blessed to spend the summer with my son. Since I wasn't working I didn't have to worry about day care or summer camp. But I did have to come up with some kind way to keep him occupied. In the past it was nothing for us to just pack a little bag and head off somewhere fun. We called it "Going on an Adventure". Without money, however those fun adventures were hard pressed to make it out of our driveway. And then, what I can only assume was God pressing on His people to reach out to us, opportunities for some recreation started to show up! A family in my church, The Deatons, invited Matthew and I to come stay for a night or two on their annual, family camping trip. We joined them and it was an awesome vacation of camping, swimming, eating and line-dancing! I hadn't been on a 'family vacation' in many, many years and it was so refreshing. Not only to be somewhere other than our tiny, little town but to be somewhere with friends. I couldn't have planned a better "adventure" if I had a bank account stuffed to the gills with money! The blessing was in the fellowship and growing a friendship that already meant a great deal to me. (And if you wanted to see a little 'six degrees' link between the Deatons and me... Her grandfather was a brother to my mom's sister's husband's dad. I think. And that makes us some kind of cousins, twice removed!) So I went along on the family vacation with actual family! Small world? Or Divine Design?! You be the judge!

Because I had some time on my hands, one of the church deacons, Jim McBryde and I went to visit the elderly father of one of our members who had fallen and broken his hip. He was staying in an assisted living center. While having lunch, out of the blue Jim said to me, "You and Matthew are welcomed to use my little place at the beach if you'd like." We weren't talking about vacations or the beach or going anywhere at all. I have to assume that it just popped into his mind to offer. "I didn't know you had a beach place Jim! And how soon can we have it!" I laughed. I was so excited knowing that if I could just scrape up some gas money and some food we'd be beach bound in a matter of days! How kind of Jim to offer and how gracious the Lord was to press on my friend in that way. The generosity didn't stop there...

I am an open book. You can rest assured if I'm going through something - good or bad - I am going to put it all out there. Rarely do I hold anything back. I'm a self-proclaimed Drama Queen. I can make stumping my toe the biggest thing since the OJ Trial! I'm a story-teller (hello dear reader of this very blog post!) and I've never met a stranger. Because of these things, I think that Facebook is absolutely made for people like me! I'll 'update my status' because, you know, I think the world is on pins and needles wondering what I'm about to do next! Everyone very definitely cares that I'm at the grocery store or watching Dancing with the Stars... right? Not a day passed by during my 'season of unemployment' that I didn't update my Facebook Status. I praised God with my posts, I asked for prayers on my wall, I sought encouragement from my 'friends list'. I even took opportunitites to talk to others on Facebook about Jesus and salvation. I tried to encourage people who were down and I prayed for people when I was asked. And probably the most important thing I did was develop certain friendships with a small group of people from my past. Melanie made me laugh and reminded me to remember my "Westside Roots"... who ain't scared of nothin! Heather blessed me with her beautiful photographs and sent me pictures of rainbows. Andrea prayed for me and sent me emails full of encouragement and hope. Toni reminded me by her daily posts that I needed to read my Bible and spend time in the presence of God everyday.

And then there was Shelly. Oh, my beautiful friend Shelly. She cheered for me, she prayed for me like a warrior. She pulled for me the likes I've never seen and she encouraged me daily. I took some real knocks over the summer - big disappointments over lost opportunities (or no opportunities, for that matter) but she reminded me that nothing I was going through was out of God's control. She kept me focused, tightened my blinders so I could look at nothing but The One - my God, my Shelter from the storm, my Shield in the face of danger. She pressed into me that I was favored by God and the blessings were all around me. Because of the way Shelly saw things, I started to look at things differently. She never let me feel sorry for myself yet validated the way I was feeling. She loved me. But more importantly she reminded me that Jesus loved me and that He would never leave me or forsake me. And I loved her too. God gave me her as a spiritual motivation coach for this trial of mine. I had no idea that while growing up in that tiny little private school more than 25 years ago that Shelly would be the friend she's been to me. We knew of each other "back in the day" but we were from two different worlds completely. God Himself narrowed the very wide gap between us to form a bond that will last me the rest of my life! I found a real blessing in that time of struggle - friends.

It is true that God can and will use any situation, any person, any vehicle to do His will. Dare I say it, He'll also use Facebook. I felt surrounded by 'friends' even though I was sitting alone in my living room. Isolation is a dangerous thing. I know - I've been there but at least with Facebook if I didn't post something for 24 hours someone would always pop up to check on me! What I didn't realize at the time was that because I shared every up and every down and praised God for all of it was that people seemed to be getting something from my tales. Almost like giving your testimony as it was taking place. Someone I've never even had a conversation with would post up on my wall how blessed they feel by my posts. People would send me messages asking me to pray for them. What was that all about?! I was becoming a Prayer Warrior for others - and that took the focus off myself and my piddly little unemployment problem! I've been called "uplifting", "positive", "strong and courageous" and my favorite was "Barnabas - the Encourager". It motivated me. It nudged me to press on. It was a reminder that what I said and how I lived reflected Jesus. I had to "practice what I preached", I was a light - whether it was a good light or a bad light was up to me! My Christian walk was fully on display, people were watching and I just didn't want to let God down.

Meanwhile, because my story had "blessed her", she said, I got a card in the mail one day from my friend Andrea. Inside was a Walmart gift card with enough money on it to buy Gas for my beach trip! (Blessing!) I had some food in the house so Matthew and I were good to go! I was excited about the trip because Shelly and her family were also going to the same beach on the same week! They invited us to come over for game night or maybe out to eat one night. Another "family vacation" adventure! Coincidence? Hardly! It was all taken care of...the place to stay, the gas money and the food. Even entertainment was offered up by Shelly and her family. There was zero spending money but I was determined to make it work.

A few days before we were to head out, Matthew had a performance for the Gaston Baptist Association Choir Camp that he'd participated in - (thanks to my church sponsoring him to go... blessing!) Shelly, her mom and kids came to support him. As we were all leaving she and her mom both handed me cards. There was money inside! Spending money for the beach, they called it, because I had been a blessing to them. My heart lifted. And a warm feeling washed over me. I knew that God had heard my prayers and He answered them by urging His people to show some love in action by meeting a practical need. I'm sure Shelly or her precious mom never meant to have their generosity put on display ... but there was never enough words to properly thank them. So I would like to use Shelly and her mom and family as an example in the spirit of doing unto others. They didn't expect to be paid back and they didn't want anything in return. They helped me because God commanded them to. Matthew and I made it to the beach and we had a great time. We had some spending money too which made it easier. And I was able to pay my bills with the rest when I got home. And I hope one day to return the favor by extending myself to someone the way they extended themselves to me.

I spent time everyday looking for a job and sendig out my resume. And for the rest of the summer Matthew and I spent our time hanging out on other's family vacations, using our Carowinds seasons passes or swimming out at the Bessemer City Pool. I didn't realize it at the time but I was onto something when, thanks to a 'random' trivia contest, I won some snacks at the pool and used my Facebook Status Update to thank God for the Blessing. That Sunday morning the pastor used the "Finding Blessings in a Can of Pringles" example during his sermon. He had started a series on The Sermon On The Mount and talked about having a "Paradigm Shift" ... a fundamental change in one's way of thinking. I had had that shift. I started to see everything I had or would ever have as a gift from my Heavenly Father. And suddenly my faith grew stronger. Yes He will provide. Even potato chips.

To Be Continued.....