i didn't know it then but i do now

I cried all night. Probably the next day too. Everyone told me that I was going to win the beauty contest when I was six. I didn't. You did. We started school together. Kindergarten. In fact all four of us did. Not sure what we had in common. Elementary school was just okay for me. Two of us rode the bus to school and two of us didn't. We were in the same class some years and other years we weren't. You learned your multiplication facts like clockwork and I didn't. I remembered thinking and probably said, "How do you do that?"  Recess was my thing. I loved it. We played chase. We swung. We climbed on the bars. Not sure but that might be when it happened. You were athletic and could run like the wind. You could draw well. I remember that tornado. You were popular. Everyone seemed to love you. Some of us made great grades and some of us not so great. One year in middle school we all ended up in the same science class. I'll never know how but we did. Remember that huge project? Our teacher let us leave the classroom every day and walk across the road to a wooded area to do our "hands-on" research. I think it had something to do with leaves. Tell you the truth I don't really remember. We were in our own little world though. A world that we created every day. Same time. Same place. It might have happened there. In middle school some of us got our first taste of what it was like to be a cheerleader. I think we were hooked forever. We had "spend the night parties."  Birthday parties. Walks to the nearby store. You preferred soda and honey buns. I indulged in penny candy. Not long after that all our lives began to change. It was there that things got complicated at times. Our lives were interrupted by boys. By first love. Our friendship might have seemed a little distant at times. We all got married. Had babies. Went our separate ways. Took different paths. Only occasionally would they intercept. I remember our kids playing together. Your daughter getting married. My wedding the 2nd time around. I remember the funeral. I saw you there. We hugged so tight. I cried. And then after all those years we were all at the reunion together. All four of us. The first time in forty years. We planned a trip. Our very first trip together. All four of us. Not too far away. Just a little trip to a cabin in Georgia. We were in the car together on our way. And I think it was there that it happened. We knew. No words can really describe it. We just knew. We knew that God had brought us together after all those years "for such a time as this." It was perfect. Not too early. Not too late. Right on time. It was very clear that "you have not chosen one another, but I have chosen you for one another"quote from CS Lewis had become ours. How could four girls from a small town in Florida continue to be friends after all those years? Since they were six years old. Through skinned knees and bruised elbows. Enough stuff to distance them forever. Broken roads for sure. But, broken roads that had been resurfaced. It didn't take long for us to see that. It was a sacred moment. It might have been in a car traveling north, but it was definitely a "take off your shoes your standing on holy ground kind of moment." I get chill bumps just thinking about it. I didn't realize that you were my soul mate when we built structures with the huge blocks in kindergarten. I didn't realize it when I went home with you and fell in love with your brother. Or when we cheered. Or the time we highlighted our hair. I didn't know that I would love, cherish, and appreciate you more than I could ever explain. I had no idea that I would see you as one of my most precious gifts from God. But, I do now.

I love you ❤
sammie jean

it's a beautiful mess...

 Two and a half weeks ago a major hurricane hit our area. Our world was shaken to say the least. Everyone around us was. Our families, friends, neighbors, and strangers were all effected.  Our world seemed to be turned upside down. Literally in some cases. The Florida Panhandle was changed forever. People had been saying for years that the gulf coast about 40 miles from us had never experienced a devastating hit. Well, this time it did. It seemed to have come out of no where. One minute we were going through the normal routine of leaving our camper and traveling to a safe haven at my mamas, for a Cat 1 or 2 and the next minute we heard it was coming on shore directly at us as a Cat 4. I don't know what I would have done differently... everyone was in the same shoes. After the storm quickly passed through, thank God it didn't stall, no one had electricity or cell phone service and we only had limited amounts of food and water. Some didn't even have homes. Believe me, I'm not complaining. We were just thankful to be alive. Days later, we came back to our camper, to check on things. We couldn't get down our road for the pine trees that had been chopped into and blown over everywhere. We had to get out of the car and travel by foot. As we walked up to our place we saw that our camper was in tact. Just everything was a mess. We were extremely grateful that our home had not been blown over. I walked onto the porch I found myself saying out loud, "My flower bed is a mess," as I reached over to pick up the debris; leaves, limbs, and all that was left by the storm. I was a little disgruntled, to say the least. All I could see was the mess! I was just thanking God that our camper was still secure. How quickly my view was skewed. Looking away in dissatisfaction, I saw the butterflies fluttering all over the golden Lantana like they had always done. And the bees buzzing happily in and around it all. They were not the least bit dismayed by the scene. They were doing what they loved to do. Seeing them lifted my spirits. Then the thought came to me. Why am I so agitated? As I looked a little closer, beneath the stubble, there were my flowers. Just as pretty as ever. Maybe even prettier. I couldn't see them at first. I could only see the yuck. I couldn't see the roses for all the thorns. I don't have any roses but you know what I mean. I know it's a small thing. A flower bed and all. But, somehow this little analogy seems to make sense. I know that some people might not see it like this. I hear them. And that's okay. And yes it's true...I didn't lose everything I have. If I did, I pray I would still see it like this. I was reading my morning devotion this morning and this verse stood out at me (of course it would)...the wind and the waves know His name. Of course they do! He created them! There was nothing about this storm that took Him by surprise. I also remembered the verse...there is a time and season for everything... I started to see things differently. I thought about all the devastating events of the last few weeks. As I looked closely from underneath the rubble and pain all around us, I saw a beautiful thing happening. Actually, a "beautiful mess" started to emerge. Slowly at first. Almost a snails pace. Then it grew and grew and started to spread.  Everywhere I looked people were caring for other people.  Person after person worked tirelessly at shelters and donation stations. People cooked hot meals for those that couldn't. They cleaned, raked, sawed, listened, prayed. The very next day, after the storm had passed, my husband ventured out across the road to talk to my mom's neighbors. To check on them. Some homes had trees through their roofs. Others didn't. But, we still had a whole lot in common. We all started picking up the broken pieces of our lives together. Whether it be in our yard or their yard or another town or county, it didn't matter. Power companies, police officers, emergency people, started flooding in from all over the US to give us aid. Selfless acts of service. We are forever grateful for all their help. Everyone has been changed. I even found myself more concerned about the other person getting water at Walmart than I was for myself. We have had a lot of time to get reacquainted with our  families too. Time to just talk to one another; no cell phones, no TV, nothing but good ole conversation. Now that is no small feat. I'm sure new friendships have been made. Old ones renewed. Time spent loving on each other. It isn't just an ordinary experience for sure. We traveled north for a few days while our electricity was off.  My husband and I took my mother and granddaughter to our place in North Carolina for a week. I have been wanting my mother to visit us for over a year now and the opportunity never arose.This was definitely an unexpected trip. Who would have ever thought that a storm blowing through our area would give us that time. We got the chance to hold our family close and we took it. On our trip up north, days after the storm, my husband and I talked to a man and woman that sat across from us eating breakfast. The first hot meal we all had, had in a few days. He had no idea that she had completely lost her house in the storm and the young man that sat across the table from her had brought her to eat breakfast.The waitress came up to us and said, "The man at the table over there paid for your families breakfast and the table next to you." A total stranger. I have never had anyone pay for my whole meal like that before. I almost cried. To pass it forward we bought the young man and young woman's breakfast. We didn't have much cash on us but we were able to give her what we had. We have prayed for her since that time. In fact, we've had a lot of opportunities for prayer. Everyone has. It's a little ironic don't you think?  He takes messes and makes something beautiful out of them. It kinda makes me wonder if I should call them messes at all! A time when we might ordinarily focus on ourselves, we start thinking about others. It doesn't matter   what anyone else says...I see some plain "ole" good people. I know that it is going to take a long time for some to find a new normal. A very long time. But, I know with all my heart, we are all going to be better for it. I will never for one minute believe that God didn't orchestrate everything. He knows exactly what He is doing.

❤Our communities are stronger because we are better people❤
sammie jean

beach trips and (beach fruit)...that's what memories are made of

I like to compare my thought process to a cup of hot cider with a cinnamon stick. Stir and stir. Mull things over. It gets better and better with just a little extra time. That's what I did about this past weekend.  It's not very often that my sister and I get our girls together. Just us. Maybe during holidays or special occasions. We spend the day together. But a whole weekend is unheard of these days. When our kids were young, mama, my sister and I, and our three girls, would get together for a week at the beach. Some how we managed to make it a yearly trip. Our close friend and her daughter would join us. My son which was seven years younger than my daughter only got in on a trip or two. By the time he came along we had stopped making it a yearly tradition. Each year was a little different; a little older, possibly a little wiser, hopefully not a little heavier, but the one thing that was a must was..."beach fruit." Orange juice poured over fruit cocktail with bananas cut into small pieces, chilled and ready to eat at any time. Simply delicious. Nothing more refreshing after a day in the sun.  We spent hours at the pool. For some reason we seldom went down to the gulf. Something about salt, sand, sweat, and small children that just didn't mix. Then after we had all the fun we could stand for one day, we bathed, put on our summer's best, fixed our hair (which seemed to take hours) and went out to eat. Love thinking about those days. I remember the year daddy died, mama couldn't stand the thought of having Christmas at home. Fifty-six years of memories. So where did we go? The beach. I think it was a safest place for her that year. She rented a condo for the whole family. We tried hard to maintain normalcy; a Christmas tree, gifts, homemade gumbo, grands all around her...but daddy wasn't there.  My daughter called me several months ago while we were in our cabin in North Carolina. "Mama, I want to do something special for nana," the girls call her. "Do you think you will be free for a weekend the last of August?" she inquired. She had invited her aunt and cousin's as well. This was June. I put it on my calendar. It was a date. We all agreed to make this a special weekend "just for her." The weekend finally arrived. My daughter had given me all the information I needed; where to go, what to do, and exactly how she wanted it done. I told her okay. When she gets bossy I do that to get her to hush. My sister and I had the challenge of getting our mama to the beach without her knowing anything about what we had planned. My sister has a place west of where we always took our children when they were young, so we told her we were going there. Of course that wasn't the truth. We were going back to the place of our "summer getaways." "Mama, we're going to try this new restaurant in PC for dinner," we told her on our way. She was happy and content. One thing for sure. She trust my sister and I. I think we could drag her off to Kalamazoo and she would come right along smiling. The road was all torn up; under heavy construction, so it made the area a little hard to travel and a little confusing, but because my sister is the "directional one" between the two of us, I felt I was in safe hands. We arrived to the condo or restaurant ( mama thought). I realized that my phone was dead. I could just hear my daughter. "Mama, make sure you keep your phone charged," she insisted. I didn't. All the directions that she had so precisely given me were stored in it. Plus, I was suppose to video the whole thing, per her orders. When I told my sister that my phone was dead, I saw the same look on her face that I had seen so many times growing up. That look of ,"Can you do anything right?" Well guess what? Younger sisters don't have to, we have our older sisters to take care of things. Sure enough, my sister saved the day when she made communication quickly with her children upstairs. We were on our way. I grabbed her phone to video tape the wild goose chase. And it was that. Now just listen to this. We walked through the entrance door of the condo, walked down the hallway to look for the elevator, got on the elevator, went up the the fourteenth floor, got off the elevator and walked past ten rooms or so until we finally reached our room, knocked on the door and there they were...our three girls dressed in Hawaiian clothes holding up signs, "This Is For You!!!!" Poor mama! We blew her mind for sure! All she could say was,"What are ya'll doing here?" Bless her heart, she still was looking for the restaurant. She was over-whelmed to say the least. She shed a few tears and said, "No one has every done anything like this for me." Crazy as it might sound, I can safely say, "We pulled it off." My daughter's plans had been beautifully implemented. We had a luau on the deck, complete with flaming torches, coconut shrimp, meatballs/pineapple skewers, and fruity drinks. It's a wonder someone didn't report us. We were not quiet....but, we never are. We enjoyed ourselves. Mama is eighty-seven and puts us all to shame. She gets up every morning before sunrise to walk around the track at the local hospital, every day of her life. Everyone that knows her still describes her as beautiful; inside and out. She might be older and a little hard of hearing, but she is no push over. She doesn't talk very loud and she doesn't talk very much, but let me just tell you, when mama speaks...we listen. We all pretty much think, "she hung the moon." My only sister doesn't talk a lot either. But, she enjoys conversation. We get so tickled at her. She's a little gullible at times. She's the kind of person that gets the punch line a few seconds after everyone else gets it. She's not a slacker though. She can figure out the killer on her favorite crime shows when others can't... just skip the jokes. She and I were always different when we were younger, being four and half years apart, and didn't have a lot in common. But you know what? I don't think that anymore...she has become my best friend.  Her two daughters, my nieces, are as different as my sister and I were growing up. One loves to talk and the other not so much, but is a good listener. She's like her aunt a little; loves to "mull " things over in her mind. If I were to describe them to you I would say one is right brain and the other is left; one intuitive the other analytical. But, actually I think both of them are mathematical and both creative, so, so much for that theory. One thing I do know for sure is, they are beautiful, caring, committed young woman. I am as proud of them; as proud as my sister is. Well, almost!
 I saved my daughter for last. I can't tell you about her without telling you about me too. We are like lemonade. Sour yet sweet. Or is it sweet yet sour? Either way, when you take a sip, you never know exactly what you are going to get. It might be so lemony that you squint your eye or delicious enough to just sit back and enjoy. I don't think I have ever been as talkative as my daughter is but I don't think she sits and ponders like I do, but we are alike in so many ways. We are crazy about music. Love a good time! We are very emotional and often misunderstood. When we believe in someone or some thing we believe wholeheartedly. We have had our share of pain but also our share of  joy! We both strive for balance. It just doesn't come easy for us. When I look in my daughters eyes, I sometimes still see a sad little girl. I think she is finding herself though. It took me a long time to find myself too.  Daughter, you have a heart of gold. Thank you for such a special weekend.💕 We can definitely chalk one more up for the beach. No "beach fruit." But, nevertheless, many memories were made with our little lady, Nellie Herrick.

 I pray we have many more❤

sammie jean

your presence...

The wind and its furry,
a mighty storm;
uprooting all

The earthquake and its shaking
 everything crumbling;
as it falls

The fires blazing heat
a raging, ravenous,
angry beast

Mighty is
your handiwork;
Powerful indeed...

But, as I stand on the
mountainside,
I realize,
you aren't in the three

 You come like
 a spring shower;
refreshing as the rain

Your voice
 a gentle whisper;
quiet, peaceful refrain

You sing over me
words of solitude; 
a sweet, melodic song;

gently cooing
 as a turtle dove;
all the day long

Your presence...
assures me;
of your endless love

You quieten my very soul


The Lord said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord for the Lord is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. After the fire came a gentle whisper. I Kings 19:11-12 NIV

comfortable in my own skin...

My newest endeavor, substitute teaching. Its been a long time since I applied for a job. Thirty-five years. Things have changed; application four pages long, drug test, fingerprints. My husband is going to try this too. I say try. After being retired for three years, the thought of getting up early and going to work seems a little scary. Anyway, here we go.We went to get our fingerprints yesterday. She did my thumb print first and then my four fingers together. Right hand then left. Then, I had to roll my thumb and each finger separately. Starting with my thumb, the message came across the screen on the computer, "print cannot be found." I knew that was impossible because I had just done my fingerprints. But, nevertheless, I had to do both thumbs and 8 fingers a total of 3 times each. That's thirty rolls, all because it kept saying, "fingerprint can't be found." The lady that was doing the prints said, "Your fingers are very wrinkled." "You must do a lot of work." We laughed.  She said, "Your fingerprints look like an interstate going across them." I asked her what if the Florida Department of Law Enforcement didn't accept them? She told me that this happens occasionally and they usually do. Kinda strange I thought... it really doesn't matter if they like them or not, they are my fingerprints and there is nothing I can do about that. My husband jumped up there and breezed right through it.  It's funny how the smallest things can make you feel insecure. It does me. It  feeds that little bit of self-doubt that is always standing close by. That voice that says. "See you don't measure up." "You're not good enough." I thought about an experience that happened to me when I had just graduated high school and was entering college. Still young, immature, wet behind the ears. We had to go through an orientation class and we were doing a questionnaire to see what interested us. After I finished mine, I remember the person telling me that it couldn't be scored because there were too many conflicting answers. In other words, I had no idea what I wanted to do. That wasn't such a big deal. But, what it really did was, feed into my self-doubt that I had no idea who I really was. That was a slap in my face. It's true that I grew up trying to please everyone. Thought that was what I was suppose to do. Always smile. Never show my true feelings. I tried hard at school to be well-liked. I was pretty successful. My social status was extremely important. Far more important than my academic one. I grew up in a home where my parents were total opposites. My daddy an extrovert, charismatic, loud and loved people. Mama on the other hand; quieter, yet warm and friendly. My sister and I fell in between somewhere. I remember my sister telling me that she was very out-going when she was young.  I was very out-going when I was younger too. People often told me I was like my daddy. I'm not sure when it happened though, but somehow through the years I feel like I turned into my mother. I like so many of the same things that she does. We both like the early morning. That is my favorite time with my mother. Talking over a cup of hot coffee. I still remember growing up, getting up early and walking into our living room and there she sat in the same chair every morning, wrapped up in a blanket, reading her bible. Although in a new house now, she still has a favorite chair, a cup of coffee, and her bible. I love my early morning devotional time too. I don't think I have ever seen a more disciplined person than my mother. She has exercised her whole life. Being a physical education teacher has helped. But, even today, she gets up before daylight and goes to the local hospital to walk. I have never been very disciplined. The strangest thing happened to me though when I retired, I wanted to get healthy; eat better and exercise. What a role model she has been! Mama and I both enjoy our flower garden.  I still remember the vase of flowers that she so creatively helped me put together for the Garden Club.  I was probably around 12 years old. It was definitely mama that gave me the bug. I love my flowers. We both love the seasons and holidays; can't wait for fall each year which is our absolute favorite season and Christmas our favorite holiday. Even today, mama loves to decorate her house for each season. Her dining room table laden with rabbits and pastel colors for Easter and turkeys and pumpkins for the fall. At 87 she can't wait to get her Christmas tree put up and all 10 stockings hung from the mantel; one for each great grandchild. Oh wait! With our new addition to the family, my precious little grandson, she will have 11 this year. She has a wreath for every occasion (sometimes as big as her door) and outdoor garden flags to boot.  I love her over-the-top enthusiasm for decorating!  A little rubbed off on me. Snuggling up to a warm, cozy, wood burning fireplace is my very favorite.  I'm sure all because of the many, many days I warmed up to hers and daddy's. But, for mama, it was a must! Although I enjoy people like my daddy did, I find that my favorite place is in the solitude of my own home; just like my mama. But, you know, it doesn't really matter who I took after, the most important thing is, I feel comfortable in my own "wrinkled" skin. The first thing that popped into my head yesterday when the lady had trouble getting my fingerprints was the verse... "you knit me together in my mothers womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made." I might be a little insecure at times. I might have more wrinkles on my fingers than most.  But, one thing I know without a doubt... You have always known me. And You have always loved me. Thank you Father God!

That's the most important thing 💗

sammie jean

a summer full of surprises

These days life has become a lot more simple. My prayer has become; help me say, do, and be what brings you honor and glory. It really seems to be the main thing that matters. As I sit and ponder...I can only feel gratitude. Gratitude for my family. God's special gift to us. He loves family. We spent two wonderful weeks with our granddaughter in the mountains. There were a few highlights; white water rafting in the Nantahala River. I wish I could have recorded her constant excitement behind me. Horseback riding along the edge of the mountain. Our guide said, "She's just a natural." Climbing to the top of Bell Mountain. "Come on Ammie, climb to the top with me." Memories forever etched in my mind. But, it's those small things; her first Yahtzee, feeding treats to the neighbors dog on the back porch, holding her small hand in church and just talking about life that seem to grab hold of my heartstrings the most when I think about it ❤

It did bring back memories though of growing up in the icy cold creek water while white water rafting. At one point, we pulled over to a white bottom sandbar, turned the raft over and jumped into the 48 degree water. It honestly took my breath away it was so cold.  Our granddaughter couldn't believe we did it. She didn't realize that we had done that our whole life. I explained, "We had a huge oak tree beside the creek that had a rope hanging from it that we jumped from." Her eyes wide open 👀 "You did!". I think pawpaw and I grew a little larger in her eyes that day ⌣

My son reached over and handed me the most precious little bundle I have held in quite a while. Our grandson. So proud of mom and dad...they were quite the team. Just a little over a 5 pound bag of sugar. Just as much sweetness, for sure. We were expecting him shortly upon our arrival home...not the very next day though. I know without a doubt it was the best welcome home gift I have ever received ❤

.


So thankful for so many things...family, cabin get-away in the mountains, breath, life...all because of the constant love of the Father. Many days this summer were spent on the back porch. My favorite place to be these days. Just basking in the love of Jesus. Alone a lot. But, sometimes rocking with my husband. Funny how we have turned into "old people." Talking about the humming birds 🐦 Seems like it happened over night. I often say, "I wish I had of known what I know now." It's wonderful to be older though; smarter, more secure, satisfied. I'll take it any day. 👧👶💕🏠

sammie jean

a gentle whisper...

 I was raised in a loud family. It brings a smile to my face when I think about us.  When we all get together everyone tries to talk at the same time. No one really has the floor to speak. If you want to be heard you just have to be louder than everyone else. I thought that was just the way all families were until I married my husband. No! Not at all. They talk so calm and quiet. My sister and I were raised by a very loud daddy. Our mother the total opposite. My daddy loved being the center of attention. He was passionate about everything he did; coaching, administrator, or even on the floor of the House of Representatives in the state capitol. Even if he was just talking to his neighbor, he had a way of drawing you in. So much charisma. Mama tells stories about how she and daddy sold pots and pans when they first got married, a salesman for sure. It didn't matter what it was, he was good at it. Well, I have a little bit of him in me. I have always done things to try to get everybody's attention. I don't know if I got that from my daddy or because I am the baby of the family. Probably both. I always tried to make my mother and sister laugh, for attention. I loved being a cheerleader all the way through school. I gave speeches in front of large assemblies. I sang solo's at church. I enjoyed being front and center. Things started changing for me when I was around 30 years old. I became a little more reserved and I started not enjoying the attention as much. Well, maybe, still a little when I am around my mother and sister. You know old habits are hard to break ⌣
 Circumstances in life have a way of taking the wind out of your sails. I'm pretty sure that happened to me. I was disappointed with how my life had turned out and I felt that everyone else was too. I was sure that God was disappointed in me. I remember years later when I started cleaning our church for a little extra money, I spent the time praying as well. It was during those years that I realized that I had His attention. I didn't need an audience, applause, or accolades of any kind. I didn't need any one else. I sang and danced to an audience of one. He truly satisfied my soul. I had never been that content in my lifetime. I actually realized how much He loved me. He wasn't disappointed in me at all. I have been reading the old testament lately and I came across this scripture. I knew the scripture but this time it really came alive for me. I started thinking about how in the past I had done things for attention. How I really wanted to be seen and I wanted to be heard. I became so ashamed of myself and how prideful I had been. If I had of only known at that time how worldly attention paled in comparison to the master of the universe and the lover of my soul watching over me. Don't get me wrong, there are still seasons in my life that I get a little loud for attention. I might not like what is going on, so I cry, shout, and stomp my feet. I know He doesn't really mind though. He understands me. He knows that I will eventually come and just lay it at His feet in surrender. Sometimes it just takes a little time. I know though, without a shadow of a doubt, that if I do, He will quieten my storm. There is nothing else in the world like His calming presence. It is like an early morning spring shower. This spring when we were in our cabin in the mountains, in the wee hours of the morning, I could hear the pitter-patter of rain outside my window. It would sometimes awaken me but I would lie there so peaceful and safe in my cozy, warm bed. By sunrise when I got up and went on the porch to look across the yard I could see tiny little raindrops glisten on the tender vegetation as the sun peeked through the towering oaks. Still surrender. It was as if I could hear Him say in a calming, gentle whisper, "I see you and I love you."

 I love this scripture so, so much. The Lord said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord for the Lord is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire.  After the fire came a gentle whisper.
      I Kings 19:11-12 NIV   

sammie jean ❤