My Southern Heart My Southern Heart -

Behold, the Lamb of God…

Do you remember the first time you saw your newborn baby’s face after nine long months of waiting? I do. I remember all three of their precious faces. I remember checking tiny little eyelashes and soft fine eyebrows. I counted baby fingers and toes. I marveled at their exquisite noses and tiny little ears. The amazing faces I’d waited so many months to see stared back at me in wonder.

I can only imagine what Mary thought when she gazed into the face of her newborn son. I wonder if, in her heart of hearts, she truly knew that she had just given birth to the long awaited Messiah. There in a stable on a bed of fresh straw, the Son of God had been born. An angel had appeared to Mary months before to tell her that she had found favor with God and was to bear a child. You remember the story. The angel had said “He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.” Of course, Mary knew that she was a virgin and questioned how this could be. The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God.” (Luke 1: 26-38)

I’m sure Mary did just what you and I did as a parent. She talked soft baby talk to him. She listened to him coo. She soothed his cries. She made him laugh. She cared for him one day at the time and watched him grow. No doubt, as she cradled her newborn son in her arms and watched him sleeping peacefully, she remembered the angel’s words. Do you think – for just a moment – Mary had any idea tht she was holding the King of Kings and Lord of Lords in her arms? Clearly, the angel had told her that His kingdom would never end. If I had to guess, Mary was thinking her son’s destiny held something much greater than a wooden cross…but the cross was why Jesus was born.

Almighty God could have chosen any other amazing way to redeem this sinful world, but God Himself came, to you and to me, as a perfect baby. If you’ve not read the story in a while, find a comfortable chair by the window or in front of the fireplace…pick up your New Testament and just start reading. You’ll be amazed all over again. This sweet baby Jesus grew up and went to the cross to pay a debt that I owed – that you owe. He died for each of us. (Read John 3:16) Thank God that He didn’t stay in the grave! He’s alive and is coming again! Keep reading…that amazing story is in there too.

At this Christmas season as we celebrate the birth of our Saviour, I pray for each of you. I pray that you are well and surrounded by family and friends (unless you’re like me this year and many miles from them). I pray God’s richest blessings for each of you…

One amazing life…

Family, My Southern Heart, Reflections

In memory of my sister, Sarah Geraldine “Gerry” McGregor Harden.

August 1, 1930 – October 13, 2011

I was in Chicago when the sad news came. My sister had lost her courageous battle with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease). She was, at that moment, in Heaven…surrounded by a host of loved ones who’d gone before. The Bible says “absent from the body, present with the Lord”. Praise God!

I changed my reservations and flew South. My plans had been to travel South on Sunday and spend the week with my sister…but Heaven needed her sooner. On Sunday, we celebrated the amazing life of my beautiful sister at her funeral service in the church she has attended for 50+ years. There in the midst of the beautiful stained glass windows and an exquisite blanket of Autumn flowers, a host of family and friends met to remember and grieve together. I was reminded of the song “Thank You for giving to the Lord” for that is what she did. Because she loved her Saviour, she gave so selflessly…to each and every one of us, her family…and the very long line of friends at the church. We love you and miss you, Gerry, but we’ll see you again in Heaven. How I thank God that I am so blessed to call you SISTER.

Father’s Day…

Family, My Southern Heart, Reflections

Today is Father’s Day and my mind is full of memories. I was 45 years old when I lost my Dad at the age of 86. I look back now and realize that forty-five was young to lose my father, but my children would be younger still when they lost their Dad.

Life is precious…and altogether fragile. Five years ago, my children and I came face to face with that fact when their father had a sudden massive coronary; and, at the all too young age of 62, he was gone. He had been the love of my life for forty years…four decades. We’d had a sad ending to our story for after 39 years of marriage, it had ended in divorce. My heart had been broken, but I had loved him still even then. Seven and a half months later, he was gone. I was left with memories and a string of what-ifs. It was an extremely hard time for my children and me. We’d all had so much to deal with in the loss of the family as we’d known it and then a loss so great it would take years to heal. Time helps a little. Over time, pain has a way of softening at the edges.

He was a wonderful Dad and my children miss him so much. I miss him. I’m sad that he never really knew our grandchildren as they got older. That hurts a lot. I try to talk about him when I’m with them. I tell them little ways my son or daughter is like their father. I show them pictures and I tell them about him. I don’t want them to forget him…although they were so young they barely remember him. I’d like to think that somehow he will know it when our newest grandbaby…a precious little girl…is born this September. I love my children so very much and I’m glad he was their father.

He died in the month of April, and that first Father’s Day after his death, there was so much pain and hurt for all of us. I wanted something that would, in a way, be “from him” for our children. For our daughter, I chose the little Willow Tree “Father and Daughter” carving and for our two sons the “Father and Son” carving. I hope each time they look at it, they remember all the good times and the great memories…for there were a lot of those.

I’m in the process of scanning forty years worth of photos…a lifetime. I want each of my children to have a record of our family. It will take me a while but this is important; and I will get it done.

Time traveling…again

My Southern Heart, Reflections

I’ve spent the past few days attempting to restore all the photos to my blog that were “lost” in the process of changing servers recently. I’m about half way finished with this tedious task! During this long process, I’ve reread many of my old posts. Thought I would share this one again. It was originally published on May 7, 2009. I’m amazed at how our senses can take us back to another time and another place…

The taste of a delicious, hot Southern biscuit reminds me of my Mama’s wonderful cooking. One bite of homemade banana pudding with the golden brown meringue, I close my eyes…forty three years pass…and I’m home again.

If I get even a slight whiff of the perfume “Windsong” by Prince Matchabelli or of the men’s cologne, “English Leather”, it’s 1966 all over again and I’m a young newlywed.

If I hear the song “Aldi-La”, it’s 1964 and I’m sitting in the coffee shop at Mississippi College (I think it was called “The Wigwam”) with my roommate, Linda, who had just broken up with her boyfriend and we are both in tears. If the old movie “A Man Called Peter” is playing on the classic movie channel, I think of a Saturday night in 1963 and a young man named Ross.

Sometimes our senses can even play tricks on us. Not long after my father passed away, I was shopping at the grocery store and saw an elderly gentleman who looked so much like my father, even down to the slight parkinsons tremor and the gait. I found myself closely following him for two or three aisles in the grocery store…it was almost like looking at my Daddy all over again. I managed to pull myself together long enough to park the shopping cart and left the store in tears.

Touch. What can I say? I’m a hugger. I come from a long line of huggers. The human spirit can only go so long without being touched…held…hugged. There have been dozens of studies on how many hugs a day a human needs. As a Registered Nurse, I spent many years taking care of patients and made sure I incorporated some form of touch besides the routine care…a pat on the back or arm…a reassuring hug. Perhaps this is also why the studies have attributed having a pet to a sense of well-being and an overall decrease in blood pressure.

Have you ever noticed how much we learn from our sense of touch? How many times have we seen something that we’d never seen before and our first response is to want to touch it. Ever notice the sign “Do Not Touch” in a museum or exhibit?

I walk into a fabric store and my senses are overwhelmed with row after row of bolts of fabric…all different colors…patterns…textures. I’m also overwhelmed with memories of spending time with Mama in a fabric store when I was growing up. She was an excellent seamstress and made most of my clothes. We’d spend time together selecting a new pattern and find the fabric for it together. I did the same thing with my children…and, now, my daughter with hers. Mama had so many offers to sew for payment, but she reserved those talents for her family. She told me, “I only sew for love”…years later, after I began the tedious work of sewing for my family, I understood and said the same thing to my family. Who knew that would come full circle?

Down memory lane…

My Southern Heart

Growing up on Victor Drive, Halloween was a fun time. We dressed like hobos or some other easy costume and went “trick or treating”. Walking around those tree-lined blocks, we’d gather homemade popcorn balls wrapped in cellophane, hand-dipped cinnamon redhot apples or caramel apples…and lots of candy bars. We never ventured too far from home. It was safe because these were our friends and neighbors…in a different time and place.

As our children were growing up, we’d often get together with my husband’s sister and her family for Halloween. We’d have a Mexican fiesta and then go “trick or treating”. Fun memories…

Eating candy in a little house on Rhea Avenue many years ago…
I’m sure I brushed their teeth! 😉

I love those chubby little cheeks!

My youngest (left), age 5, and two of his cousins on Halloween in Memphis years ago...

Justin and his three cousins “trick or treating” in Memphis.

Twenty-five years ago! My baby boy’s kindergarten party at Halloween...

My first grandchild dressed in a “skunk” costume my daughter made! The costume made the rounds through the years.

Awww, Mom! That’s enough pictures! Let’s go get some candy!

Now, baby sister was the skunk!

All these years later and my baby girl still likes dressing up for Halloween!

I was “Grumpy” here but wasn’t too keen on keeping the beard on! Check out my grandson’s “peregrine falcon” costume that my daughter created (totally her creation)! My grandson was studying birds at the time and that was what he wanted!

I have several really cute photos of when my oldest two were young at Halloween but can’t seem to find those right now. I’ll add them when I find them. I’m in the midst of organizing photo albums after many years…sound familiar to anyone else out there?!