Decisions, Decisions...One More Adventure??

Sometimes I like to go back in time through the pages of my life. Not only does it help me keep things in perspective, it helps me with the future. When I write it down in My Little Corner, it's a record for my children...a living, breathing part of me. A place they can return and know how their parents began their journey, lived their life and maybe someday figure out what made their momma tick.

It was about this time of year in 1978. We were young newlyweds with a dream of building our first house. After meeting with a builder with our house plans, those dreams were dashed, so we moved on to Plan B.



Earl (right)

My husband, ever the man of adventure, at 18 years of age, built a log cabin using The Foxfire Book as his guide. He did it the old fashioned way of cutting the trees and hauling them out of the woods with a team of horses. I'm told it was a sight to behold since we'd not yet met one another.

We decided to finish the log cabin into our first home instead of building a normal wood structure. We worked diligently throughout the autumn months and moved into our new home two days before Christmas. Nearly all of the work was completed by the two of us and we were so thankful that Christmas to have our little house to call home. We considered ourselves blessed, then and now.

I was attached to that little house. I kept it spotless...inside and out. Because of my childhood scars a home was sacred to me. We worked hard to make the house and yard something to be proud of. We rarely had visitors since we were on top of a mountain. It would never grace the pages of Better Homes and Gardens magazine but to me it was perfect.

So you can imagine my horror when he says to me one night, "What would you think of leaving West Virginia?" My answer to him was, "Well, I wouldn't!" And then I cried myself to sleep.

That was in October of 1984. We moved to South Carolina in January of 1985. I knew it then and I know it now, that it was God's plan for our lives. In July 1984 I made the statement while we were vacationing in Myrtle Beach, SC, "This is a nice place to visit but I would NEVER live here." Guess where I moved in January 1985? You guessed it...Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.

Leaving my log house, friends and family was gut wrenching....I thought I wouldn't survive, but I did. What memories we have on that little mountain and in that town.

But God....those two little words. He knows best. He had so much waiting on me in South Carolina.

I have to keep reminding myself of these things because that husband of mine is asking questions again. Questions I don't want to hear. Oh, he doesn't want to leave our town. He just wants to downsize. It seems we're always having house issues.

Ok, now here's where it really gets difficult for me. We've lived in the same house nearly 16 years...that translates roots...deep roots. I don't want to let go of my home and yet there's the future to consider.

So I'm torn.

As women, we're made to nest...to create comfortable places for our families to feel loved and welcomed...a place where they can return and know they're home. I've been building my nest and stuffing it with all sorts of twigs and leaves making it as comfortable for my family with everything that says "home" to them. I want them to have what I missed out on as a child...a home to return to after they're grown. So that's my dilemma...

I know there are far worse things going on in the world. But I also know that each of us have decisions in our personal lives to make every day...decisions that affect loved ones. You may be trying to decide something right now that is tearing you apart...whether to stay in a marriage that you desperately want out of...maybe a decision about putting an aging parent in an assisted living facility...a prodigal child...a better job, a serious medical problem...and the list could go on and on.

 Life can be complicated can't it? It's full of twists and turns. But there is One Who never changes. He is the same today as He was yesterday and He will be the same tomorrow. He wants to be in the midst of our decisions every moment of our lives. That's why I look back at my past so much because I know that just as He guided me then, He will guide me now. He will give me peace as I wrestle with this issue. In time, He will give me the answer I'm seeking.

You are safe in His very capable hands. The hands that flung the stars in place can surely help us with our decisions. All we need to do is ask.

When I look at Your heavens, the work of Your fingers,

the moon and the stars, which You have set in place.

What is man that You are mindful of him

and the son of man that You care for him?

Psalm 8:3-4 ESV

Blessings from My Little Corner,

Cindy


P.S. I mentioned a sick family member a couple of weeks ago...she is having a serious surgery tomorrow and prayer would be greatly appreciated for her! Thanks so much!

Weaving A Legacy

I'm not new to writing but I am new to letting anyone READ my writing. Writers are their own worst critic and biggest fan, if that makes any sense. We know the heart and soul behind what we're trying to say. When I go back and read what I've written I often think I write too much about my past, but I think it's because I'm trying to make peace with it.


Logan County, West Virginia

I'm on my own personal journey you might say. A journey of healing and wholeness.

I've just returned from visiting family and old friends in my home state of West Virginia. I even made a visit to my mom's hometown to visit family and what a wonderful day it was.

There's just something about returning to the West Virginia mountains that brings out the little girl in me. A flood of memories washed over me as I made my way home through mountains and tunnels and valleys. Sometimes you see things through new eyes that cause you to pause and take notice.

God reminded me it's much like Biblical times where they built altars to remind future generations of all He had done for them. I want my children to know the blessings and the faithfulness of God to our family.

It's like a beautiful tapestry woven with different colors and blends. One day when it's turned over to reveal the finished masterpiece we'll see the perfect work of a loving God. Our tapestry won't look like anyone else's and that's what makes each one unique. We'll be able to recognize our family tapestry because of every tear shed, every battle won and lost, every moment spent together and every tragedy endured because the One who holds the world has knit us together to form our family, past, present and future.

I want my children to have this legacy to pass down to their children and so on...until the Father turns to the Son...

to be continued...

Blessings from My Little Corner,
Cindy

My Tribute...The Greatest Of These Is Love

There is a special woman who lives on a busy corner in West Virginia with a wonderful man by her side. Once upon a time many years ago that corner wasn't so busy and there was a beautiful woman who would push her baby in a stroller around that corner. At least that's what I've been told. You see, I was the baby in the stroller and the special woman who lives in the little house on the corner would come to know the beautiful woman pushing me.

The story never gets old to me...the first time she saw my mother pushing me in my stroller. It's a connection between the two most important women in my life and me. One gave birth to me and loved me until the age of fifteen and the other who took over from there.


They came to be best friends. Her name is Wilma. My mom's name was Juanita, but they called each other "Sally." As the story is told to me, Wilma says, "I had never laid eyes on a more beautiful woman, and because I lived on a corner, I went from window to window watching her walk around the corner." Well, what daughter doesn't want to hear how beautiful her mother is? Wilma said she had to meet this beauty and discovered she lived close by. A friendship was born. They eventually began attending the same church and grew very close.

The Bible says a lot about love and friendship. Jesus said, "Greater love has no one than this: to lay one's life down for one's friend." John 15:13 NIV Wilma is one of those people who doesn't like attention brought to herself...the mark of a humble servant of God. She answered the call in the deepest way a friend could possibly do, with a servant's heart.

My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was five years old and my brother was only a baby. As close friends often do, Wilma was there for us. She cooked. She cleaned. She ironed my dad's shirts. She did whatever needed to be done...for ten years. Most friends would have wearied and fallen by the wayside, but she didn't. She was my mom's hands and feet when she couldn't care for her family. When my mom couldn't eat because of the horrible affects of chemotherapy, Wilma figured out what she could eat and made sure it was on the stove when she returned from her treatments. In the seventies, chemo wasn't readily available where we lived so she had to travel to Morgantown, West Virginia, which was four hours away. This caused an extra hardship for my dad who was already under a tremendous amount of stress. Her help was immeasurable.

Sadly, my mom lost her battle at 38 years of age, leaving behind a grieving husband, a 15 year old daughter and an 11 year old son.

My high school graduation

Wilma quietly stepped in to do whatever she could to help me. In the beginning, it was lunch at her house. I walked from my high school, one block, to the most scrumptious lunches, prepared by loving hands...every day. The commitment this took humbles me. She would slip money into my pocket, not much, just enough to get a Coke or a pair of hose for church. The most important thing she did was listen...and talk about my mom. She told me stories of their friendship, of their "Lucy and Ethel" moments. I got to know my mom as a woman. She was well and whole, not sick, in her stories. What a gift she gave me.

Andy, Wilma and Bailey at Mom's grave
Wilma has decorated her grave for 38 years

As that first Mother's Day approached...the first one I would live through as an orphan...for that is the way I have always viewed myself, I stood in a card shop weeping. Something caught my eye and I knew what I must do. The card read, "You're Like A Mother To Me"...and so since Mother's Day of 1975 I have honored this woman with a card, for she is worthy, and I know my mother would agree.

She has honored their friendship by doing what most people would only do for a couple of years but she has blessed me for 38 years. She and her equally wonderful husband have been there for me through all the stages of my life...graduation, marriage, babies, deaths, and everything in between. We have aged together. When I go home, it is to their home I return and they greet me with open arms. She even waited up for me when I was home last summer for my class reunion. Throughout the years, they have modeled for me and my family what marriage, faithfulness, contentment and a servant's heart are all about. There are no finer people, in my opinion, on any little corner, anywhere in the world.

They have a son, daughter-in-law, two grandsons and their wives, and two great-grandchildren that they adore and yet they've found room in their hearts for my children. I can't say enough good things about the love and respect their children, grandchildren, and the community have for them for they inspire greatness.

I'm so blessed she was looking out the window that day on her little corner. I can't imagine what my life would have been like without them in it.

Happy Mother's Day Wilma! I love you!

Blessings from My Little Corner to yours,
Cindy

P.S. I have searched and searched for pictures of the "Sally's" together but I don't have any. My mom didn't like her picture made. She thought she wasn't pretty anymore because of the affects of the chemo, so there are very few pictures of her. Sad isn't it? Wilma has some of them at a younger age but because this is a surprise I couldn't get them. Maybe when I'm home again I'll borrow them and post later. Happy Mother's Day everyone!

Sheep of His Pasture

Once upon a time when I was a young wife living in the hills of West Virginia in a little log cabin, my father-in-law brought me two lambs and I became their surrogate momma.

Baby Lucy

He'd been in the mountains turkey hunting and one of the neighbors where he hunted was a sheep farmer. Bronson could be an intimidating man but he loved animals so he stopped to look at the new lambs. The mother of the lambs had died so he must have thought to himself, "I'll take these little lambs to Cindy, she can't have babies of her own, this is the next best thing" ...they did have to be bottle fed, after all. He was a man's man, but he did have a soft spot for me and I know this was an act of love. I was thrilled for I love animals too!

I began mixing formula and getting my babies on a schedule. I was in heaven until one of them died. I was grief stricken. I couldn't even
keep a baby lamb alive. I pulled myself together and vowed that the remaining lamb would live. I named her Lucy, after my grandmother(she was honored). Since lambs have to eat like babies, with a bottle and nipple, we bonded very quickly. She grew and flourished and eventually moved to other foods but our bond was cemented.

Our little log house sat on thirty acres and we didn't keep her in the fence all the time so she would wander down to the house. If I had the windows open and she could hear my voice, she would follow the sound of my voice from window to window. It was the sweetest thing...by now you know where I'm going with this.

"My sheep hear My voice, and I know them and they follow Me." John 10:27 NASB

Last summer, I clearly heard His voice telling me to "Be still and know Him." So...I gave up some responsibilities so I could do just that. I've been "busy" in the church for most of my life and though I know Him, He wants me to REALLY know Him, intimately like no other. Everything I've read or studied since last summer goes back to, "Be still and know Me." I want to know Him so well that no matter where I am or what I'm doing I will go from window to window just to catch a glimpse of Him. I want to look for Him in the everyday, ordinary things.

They say sheep are very dumb, and that may be. I'd rather be the dumbest sheep in the pasture than the most brilliant scientist on the planet that has just discovered the serum that would cure every disease known to mankind, if that brilliance kept me from the simplicity of the gospel.

I learned so much from my adventures with Lucy and her offspring. She gave birth to Desi and then twins the next spring. The parables in the Bible came alive for me during this time. Sheep are defenseless and need a shepherd to guide them. They are easy prey for wild animals and easily led astray to greener pastures.

We are much like sheep...we too are easy prey for evil attacks but there is so much more at stake. We want to go our own way, and many times find ourselves in what we thought were greener pastures. 

Lucy with her twins
Desi in the background

But, the good news is if we'll listen to the sound of the Shepherd's voice, He will guide us and lead us. One of the most quoted passages of scripture in the Bible is also the most comforting, and pictures the Lord as our Shepherd and we, the sheep of His pasture.

The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Psalm 23:1-3 NIV



Isn't that reassuring? Then, when we get quiet and still before Him, He speaks.

Have a blessed day,
Cindy

Turkeys Beware!

I have been replaced by a bird...a large, ugly bird with a beard, a long, scrawny neck and a big wart on his nose. It happens every year during the month of April, my husband's love affair resumes with this particular bird, the wild turkey.

His other love!!!

It began for him as a young boy in the hills of West Virginia. His dad, an excellent hunter, took him along and taught him the skills of turkey hunting and his love of the sport has grown into an obsession, you might say, for life as we know it ceases during this time.

Let me paint a picture for you...

Months before the season opens on April 1st I begin to hear sounds coming from his Ipad that resemble a turkey, and the human voices are always whispering. Do you know how many You Tube videos are on-line for turkey hunters? Let's just say he's tried to watch all of them...and then there are the little wooden boxes that are used to call turkeys; to lure the poor, unsuspecting birds in for slaughter. Oh, I'm sorry, that was mean. And then if that's not enough he must go scouting for these birds. Are you getting the picture?

Now I say to you, what is the appeal? I just don't get it. I will have to say he's an excellent hunter, just like his dad. Last year he killed his limit, which is five birds. I've actually cooked the birds for him and they're pretty good to eat. He explains to me there is great skill in killing a turkey and I believe him. My dad hunted these interesting birds as well so when he lived with us I may as well have left the room once they got on the subject of turkeys. I guess it's a man thing.

I used the analogy several years ago with shopping. I said, "what if I came in and said I'm going shopping and I have to spend $XXX.XX to shop and then the next day came in and said, I'm going shopping again, and then proceeded to do this for 30 days, except for Sunday, of course, we would never hunt on the Lord's day?"

 I think I made my point!

Word pictures are great aren't they?!!

Actually, I love it that he has hunting as a stress reliever. It's really a way of life for him. It was a way for him to connect with his dad and he loves the outdoors. We settled those issues years ago and he knows I'm very proud of his expertise in hunting and fishing.

But, the poor turkeys better run for their lives because the season in South Carolina opened on April 1st and he's out there. He's been stalking several pieces of land and practicing his calls; he's chomping at the bit to match his total from last year.

Turkeys beware!!


Cindy, the Turkey Hunter's Wife

A Grandmother Writes

I was reminded recently of the Buffalo Creek flood disaster in Logan County, West Virginia that occurred in 1972. A friend from high school posted a link on Facebook on the anniversary of the tragedy, and I was immediately transported back in time to my childhood.

Both my parents grew up in Logan County, but my Mom actually lived in that part of the county. I can vividly remember how devastated she was, and as I often do, I went rummaging through family memorabilia. If you're like me, and most of your family has gone on to their heavenly reward, old pictures and letters become sacred. You handle them with utmost care, reading them, searching for hidden messages or meaning that probably wasn't intended...at least I do. OK, so I'm a little strange, I have a creative mind.

In my rummaging, I found a note my grandmother sent to me after I was married. She'd written it just after my bridal shower with some comments made about me from a former Sunday School teacher. So many thoughts went through my mind as I read the note again after many years. It was obvious she was proud of me and wanted to express it in her own simple way. How precious to me are her words, written in her handwriting.

She was a simple woman, yet a godly woman who loved me...that I know. I always thought I was her favorite and if every grandmother can make her grandchild feel that way then she's done her job well. She had lots of grandchildren for she had seven children so I'm sure she had several favorites. We lovingly called her Ma Bailey. Bailey was her last name from her first husband. Don Bailey was my mom's dad, who died when she was eighteen years of age. She'd just graduated from high school.

Ma Bailey knew loss, suffering and pain but she knew how to love. Her daughter, my mom, lost her battle with breast cancer at the age of 38. Ma Bailey was my connection to the mother I'd lost. She would stroke my hair and remind me how much my mom loved me and how much I looked like her. When I was a little girl, Sunday afternoons were kind of boring when we'd go visit, but now that my mom was gone the need to see her was all consuming. I was drawn to her touch, her voice, her presence. I honored her and my mother by naming my daughter, Bailey, for I was proud to have come from these two special women.

Some of my friends are at that time in their lives where they have grandchildren or are expecting grandchildren. I've watched them grandparent with such love and grace. What an awesome responsibility we're given. The wisdom we've gained as parents can be poured freely into the lives of these precious little ones through the time we spend on our knees interceding for them and our children.

The one thing I know is that my grandmother loved me and expressed her love through the written word. I have a tangible piece of her that I can say on this day she was thinking of me. Write to your children and your grandchildren. If photography is your gift, take pictures. Tell them you love them in words and photos. Make a scrapbook of your memories.  Your physical presence won't always be here but your written words will last long after you're gone.

One day when your little one is all grown up and rummaging through their drawer looking for something, they'll find a piece of you, a piece of their history that links them forever with you, and they'll know they were loved.


Blessings,
Cindy

My First Blog Post

With fear and trembling today is the day I finally press the publish key. I've wanted to have a blog for the longest time but fear and apprehension and changing stages of my life held me back. It wasn't until I went to a writers' conference recently that I realized my concept of blogs was all wrong and it gave me the courage to take the leap so here I am...

August 2014

My name is Cindy and I live in the upstate of South Carolina with Earl, my outdoorsman of a husband of 34 years. We have been blessed with two wonderful children who are in their twenties, Andy and Bailey. We have two cats, Livvy and Buck, who allow us to live with them in the home I care for. A dog named Beau comes to visit every weekday morning and goes home with Andy at the end of his long day of chasing cats.

Earl and I both grew up in the beautiful state of West Virginia, met in college, had a whirlwind romance and got married at the ripe old age of 20 and 18 respectively. We moved south after six years of marriage and planted our roots deep in southern soil, though we'll always be Mountaineers at heart.

My goal for this blog is to introduce you to the One Who has made the difference in my life...that being the Person of Jesus Christ. Without Him, my life would be meaningless and empty. I would love to share things I've learned along the way to help someone else in their journey. Other topics I'll write about are homemaking, books, interesting places I've been and the wonderful people who fill my life with joy!

I decided after the conference that, if for no other reason, my children are the only ones who read this it's OK. I want them to know my heart..and you, my reader, as well.

So...welcome to My Little Corner! My hope is that you'll find encouragement for your day, put a smile on your face or make you stop and ponder something in your own life. One last thing...thank you for reading my blog!

Blessings,
Cindy