Showing posts with label Grandma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grandma. Show all posts

Thursday, March 6, 2014

it takes a village to raise a Christian



My pastor is preaching a new series on sharing our faith.  Any normal Southern Baptist member knows where this is going. Even though I was hesitant, I followed his lead and posted a short version of my testimony on the church’s Web site. And you know what? I’m glad I did.

It got me to thinking about how my testimony really doesn’t belong to me. Obviously my story belongs to the Lord who is the writer of all the pages of our lives (cue Days of Our Lives music here), but seriously, it also belongs to the people He purposefully placed in my life. He placed individuals in my life to do His work and help me grow closer to Him.  Isn’t that amazing?!

Let me share more of my story.

When I was two-weeks-old, my parents took me to church, much like Hannah took Samuel to church when he was a baby. However, Hannah dedicated Samuel to the Lord and took him back home until he was older. My parents just left me....because in 1981, you could still do that and not face jail time. (In 1981, you also weren’t frowned upon for having an infant in public.  Let me just say, my immune system is just fine.) Allegedly, they took me to church, all the ladies cooed over my adorableness and my mom left me in the nursery (again, great immune system as a child). After church, she and my dad rounded up the other two children, and out of habit (their words, not mine), they went to the car and drove home. They were in Riceville (this is 15 miles from the church for you people unfamiliar with the area) when my sister asked, “Where’s the baby?” Needless to say, my parents immersed me in the church early on. 

I was nine-years-old when I accepted Christ as my personal savior. My mother led me to Christ on April 7, 1991 following the death of my maternal grandmother who was a dear woman of faith. She was very meek and gentle, but was strong in the Lord.  These two ladies had a huge impact on my faith. They were at home, though.  There were others who had a large impact, too. They are who I want to tell you about.

There was a man who taught the 3 and 4-year-old Sunday school class at my church. His wife and other ladies helped, and I’m sure they actually did the bulk of the teaching. Mr. S was a large man (well, he seemed to be to me). When he picked you up, you were the tallest kid in the world! He taught me how to blow bubbles with bubble gum. I owe my first major haircut to him, as I somehow ended up tangling lots of hair in some gum while practicing this at home. He would show us how to tie our shoes and often tied them for us. Mr. S was a large man, so thinking of him sitting in small chairs with three or four of us on his lap telling us stories and making us giggle showed great love. He could have been with an adult Sunday school class, but he chose to show us love. Mr. S taught me about bubble gum and shoe laces, but most of all, he taught me how to love.

Mrs. J and Mrs. C both taught me music as a child. They taught me how to sing praises to my Lord. Mrs. C’s husband taught me how to worship the Lord - through singing and through service. He taught me that the only person worth performing for was God, and it was my responsibility to help others worship Him. I learned very early on to sing to the Lord, not for man thanks to Mr. C. I learned very early on to sing with a happy heart thanks to Mrs. J and Mrs. C.

Miss L taught me to pray. As a fifth-grader, she gave me my very first driving lesson: you  could pray with your eyes open, because if you are driving a car, you can’t close your eyes to pray. Miss L told us she prayed while driving. I pray while I drive. Miss L showed us how she writes out her prayers because it helps her mind focus on Him. I write out my prayers because I struggle to focus on Him otherwise. Miss L told us she prays throughout the day and just talks with the Lord. I learned as a fifth-grader that Jesus is my friend from Miss L.

Love, music and prayer are such huge parts of my faith. The Lord tells us in John to love others just as He loved us. David tells us to sing a new song unto the Lord in Psalms. All throughout the Bible, there are passages of prayers and people having communion with God.

My testimony has roots in my home and in my church family. Those individuals played such a significant role in my faith. It is so important to remember that I, too, have an impact on someone’s faith. God is using me just like He has used others in my life. So, as I prepare to listen to my pastor’s sermon series on sharing our faith, I’m also going to be praising God for those who shared with me. And Lord willing, He’ll use me to share with others.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Lolly Dolly

What Lolly Is Supposed to Look Like

When I was a newborn, the story goes that my mother and grandmother drove to Chattanooga for a shopping trip. Why they would take a one-week-old child on such an adventure is beyond me. Anywho, my Grandma B. bought a Lolly doll for me. Apparently, I immediately went toward the doll. Whether this is exaggerated or total truth is irrelevant. What is known in my family is my childhood love for my Lolly Dolly.

Lolly Dolly lived a rough life. I loved Lolly to death.  She's rather ragged, torn and to any other eyes but mine, ugly. But I loved my Lolly. I slept with her every night, and I'm pretty sure she attended church regularly...as well as pre-school and all outdoor activities. She probably ate a few meals with me and watched the Cosby Show on Thursday nights. Lolly was the best doll. She went swimming in the creek, rode in the wagon, and played in the dirt. She had countless "baths" in the washing machine, I'm sure.

When I was about seven-years-old, my parents decided Lolly needed to rest. I remember leaving her on my bed before leaving for school. When I got home, Lolly was missing. I was told I must have misplaced her. (Yes...it's true....my parents lied to me....) I looked all over for Lolly. It was a sad state of affairs for the household that night.

Several years later, I found Lolly in the back of my dad's closet. My mother explained they had to 'rescue' Lolly before she was completely destroyed.  I keep her tucked away in a trunk now and rarely remember her...except tonight.

Tonight I saw an advertisement for a children's clothing company called Lolly Wolly...or something to that affect. My first thought was "Lolly!" The Web site had nothing to do with dolls. However, just seeing the name Lolly brought back such sweet memories of a blessed childhood full of sunshine, warmth, and love.

My Lolly Dolly




Sunday, January 20, 2013

Happy Birthday Grandma B!

This weekend celebrations were in store as my paternal grandmother turned 94 years-old!  My cousins from California came in we took Grandma out for pizza and then back to my parents' for cake.

David, Danny, Grandma B., MaryBeth, and me




Grandma B. played Happy Birthday as we sang to her.  Sorry the film is sideways.


Grandma B. and me at the local pizzeria.





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