A slice of life on 10 acres in the woods. Thoughts on raising 4 sons, guiding 4 grandsons, keeping up a 35 year marriage, maintaining friendships, finding memories, and trying to follow God on the journey.
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Kentucky.  Tennessee.  Angus had two weeks vacation and we would spend the first week of it working on homes in Appalachia  with a group from Missouri, then head on for some camping and hiking in the Smoky Mountains.  We were excited and we were on our way!  The rented van held 8 and Angus and I were in our car heading to Evansville, Indiana where we would meet up with folks from Nixa, Missouri who were also going to the Henderson Settlement.  We stayed the night, sleeping on the gym floor of a church there and then caravanned on, heading east.  We were silly with our walkie-talkies and having fun along the way.  

We stopped for lunch in Somerset, Kentucky.  That's when I discovered it.  My purse was missing... my purse with pretty much all of our cash for the trip.  I remembered putting up on the towel holder in a gas station restroom at our last stop.  We had the receipt and called information to get the phone number.  The rest of the group went on in to order at Smokey's BBQ.  We called and they looked.  No purse.  A hundred thoughts were running through my head.  We don't use credit cards anymore so the loss of the cash was big.  Angus had his debit card but mine was in my purse, so was our check book, of course.  If we canceled mine would he still be able to get money with his card or did it put a hold on the account?  It was Sunday,the bank was closed.   

We live in a small town and so we know our banker and we called him at home.  He told us to call the bank first thing in the morning, any charges would be covered.  Not very comforted by that information, we went back to the table.  We discussed it all.  I told them that for me, the worst of it was knowing people do stuff like that.  I kind of shakes your faith in humanity.  That sounds dumb, I know, but I want to believe, I do believe that most folks do the right thing when they can.  Jenita told us that when her purse was stolen, they had grabbed all the cash out of it and tossed it in the nearest dumpster.  Perhaps we could call the police in that town and they could find the purse, maybe the debit card and check book would still be within.  

That sounded promising so we went back outside to make the call.  Angus had his new early Father's Day gift, a Garmin, and it gave us the local Police number for Morgantown, Kentucky.  The officer who answered was efficient and polite with his deep southern drawl.  He  didn't make me feel like an idiot (okay, not any more of an idiot than I already did).  He took our phone number and said would send someone out to check on it.

My head was still spinning.  I kept thinking of more and more things that had been in that bag.  My digital camera. My school keys.  Angus was quiet and calm, he's used to me doing dumb stuff.  We headed back in and sat down with the rest of the crew.  There, laying on the table between us was a stack of bills.  I didn't know what to say when I saw it.  I looked searchingly at Angus who hadn't  seen it yet.  They'd taken up a little collection for us, these people... most of whom we barely knew.  They had collected $300 in those few minutes we were out.  Tears welled in my eyes.  I had been pretty careful about how I was feeling, nothing seemed real until then.  Their generosity moved me back to my faith in humanity again.  Yes, I know there are bad people, lots of them.  But I still think that they are outnumbered by normal people who do the right thing.  It just doesn't get the attention.

As we were finishing up our meal Angus got the call back.  The purse had been found.  It appeared that everything was intact he said.  We decided to go back the 88 miles to retrieve it.  The rest of the group would go on and we'd, hopefully, meet them at the Henderson Settlement before dark.

In all the excitement we almost forgot to pay for our meal but when we went back to check on it one of the people from Nixa had paid already paid for it.

We called the police when we got into the tiny town and he met us in the parking lot of the local Dollar Store.  He was a big ol' boy and pulled up in his big black SUV.  He didn't even get out of the vehicle, just reached his arm out and handed it out the window, telling me again, he thought it hadn't been messed with but he didn't know what it had looked like before.  Sure enough, everything was there.  Everything.  I was thrilled.  He told us there are two of that gas station in town and we'd probably been given the phone number of the wrong one.  I said I'd sure like to give him a big hug.  He laughed and told us that "Oh, no.  This is a small town and everyone'll hear about it."  Laughed again and was on his way.  

That's it.  We returned all the money given us but we kept the love that had come with it.  Our hearts were filled with such gratitude that every one of those 15 people felt like kin.  The couple who'd bought  our meal refused to be reimbursed.  We missed the evening devotions but arrived at our destination just as it was growing dark.  Heard our names called out from a porch swing as we drove slowly through the peaceful Settlement in the foggy dusk of the surrounding hills.  We were greeted and hugged and settled in quickly. It was peace And we felt ready for whatever adventures lay ahead.


Friday, August 31, 2007

This is kind of a long story that I have needed to tell for awhile but just couldn't. Thank you to Shelly at Can I Borrow Your Life for nudging me.

In August of 2003 I lost my dear friend, Sandy, in a car crash. It was my first experience with a close, unexpected death. I took it hard. I dropped about 10 pounds in two weeks because I forgot to eat and wasn't hungry. My thoughts were consumed with Sandy and what she was and what the world, my world, would be like without her in it? Had I appreciated her enough? (no) Did she know I loved her? (yes) What would her kids do? (she had 4) What would her parents do? (she was their only) My mind just would not stop.

She worked right beside me every day. One evening her family came in and cleaned out her area without our knowing. I walked into our small office the following morning and it was such a shock to look over there and see nothing of her! I burst into sobbing and just turned around and went home without saying a word.

I really started thinking about the value of life and how we live it and how we should be living it. I thought about Sandy and how she was one of those people that wasn't very involved in her church and didn't go to church all the time and I really didn't know how deep her faith was. But she lived the way we ought to.

She was kind to everyone without exception, even those who didn't have her best interest at heart (like her Ex). She knew the name of every salesman or repairman that walked in, if not when he arrived then by the time he left. ...And how many kids he had and probably their names, too!


People she barely knew would stop by just to say hello to her and she was never too busy for them no matter how much she had on her plate. We joked about "Here comes your new best friend" when we saw some of them walking up to the door, but that's the thing... She treated everyone, and I mean it, everyone, as if they were her family.

Why couldn't I do that? Me, who professed to be a Christian (with far more involvement and spirituality than she). I knew she had it right by the Great Commandment and I was still struggling with it all.


Three weeks after Sandy's death Vince and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary. We took a weekend getaway to Lawrence, Kansas. With all the thoughts of life and death and such I had also been reevaluating my marriage.

Vince and I are incredibly different in temperament and personality and even the way we think. We usually get to the same place but it often takes some negotiating. I decided it was worth it. It's kind of like that "Jerry McGuire" movie where he says "You complete me." I've heard people make wisecracks about that statement but it is why we are still hanging in there. When we do work together it can be amazing and wonderful. I wanted that to happen more.


While we were in the little college town that weekend, I got my tattoo. It was a plan, not spontaneous. I wanted a dragonfly rising from the water. I had designed the line of water with a "V" and an "S" gently curved into it. Whenever I looked at it I would be reminded that I love Vince and also to carry on Sandy's example for living.

A butterfly is too pretty and gentle for me. A dragonfly is born in the water and changes into a predatory flying insect. It is in the "good bug" category since it consumes huge numbers of nasty mosquitos. It is an amazing insect to me, to be so bold and tough and so full of life as it darts around the ponds ands fields. I am so not-prissy or gentle or beautiful (Is that why God gave me 4 sons?). I thought the dragonfly was a much better representation of who I am. No, I'm not a predator but I'll fight for what I believe in.

So, now you know the secret of my tattoo. Many people have asked why the tat and why the dragonfly but I never fill in the details. Now you know. (Shhhh~don't tell anyone.)

~~~~~~~~~

Okay, did any of you notice that my tattoo is not really a dragonfly? Most people think it is though and I wish it was so ... They told me it was a dragonfly and I was so excited and scared at the time that I didn't notice the antennae, which dragonflies do not have, and the wings are shaped wrong, too. Haha. A dragonfly that's not right. The jokes on me! I'm just pretending to know what's going on but in reality I am just skimming the surface. How just.

The tattoo is perfect for me.
~~~~~~~~~~

~P.S. Vince and I just hit #29 and still rollin'