Nancy

Makin’ Our Way to Waco!

May 27, 2018 by Nancy 9 Comments

My friend Kathy and I loaded up and took off on a five-day road trip from Colorado Springs, CO, to Waco, TX. Fans of the HGTV show, Fixer Upper, we wanted to see for ourselves the silos, the suspension bridge, and the rolling green fields featured on TV.

We knew we liked the show, and thought its stars Chip and Joanna Gaines were just the greatest, but we weren’t at all prepared for our reaction the first time those silos came in to view. Parking in the lot by the astoundingly beautiful and historic First Baptist Church of Waco, we were like giddy school girls as we climbed out of the car.

Of course we wanted to shop at Magnolia Market, made famous by founders Chip and Joanna. Everyone had warned us the line to get in would wind around the block, but we arrived when the store first opened on a weekday and walked right in. Oh my! Beautifully merchandised shelves of enticing candles, mugs, and decorator items filled our senses, much like walking on to any set of Fixer Upper. If you love Joanna’s design style, this is heaven.

The temptation to buy at least one of everything was quelled when we looked at the prices however. So rather than buy the artificial magnolias for sale we took photos of the real magnolias in bloom all over town and inhaled their intoxicating aroma–a delightful pleasure for free!

We did wait in line at Silos Baking Co. for some of their acclaimed cupcakes and biscuits, but enjoyed visiting with other fans of the show while we waited. The next day we ate breakfast at Magnolia Table—a remodel of the old Elite Café where Elvis frequently ate when he was stationed at Fort Hood, TX. Treating ourselves to huge breakfasts that included French toast or pancakes and Texas Pecan coffee, we agreed the time we had to wait was definitely worth it—as was every calorie. And of course we shopped the attached gift shop until our spot at one of the community tables opened up.

So basically we did everything on offer from Chip and Joanna and their growing brand, Magnolia. We were delighted with our experiences, just as we’d expected, so no surprise there. What did surprise us was how much we fell in love with Waco itself.

Super model turned entrepreneur David Ridley established Waco-tours.com with friends, and no visit to Waco would be complete without climbing on to one of their air-conditioned Mercedes vans and letting a well-informed, entertaining guide tell you the rest of the story about Waco. Yes, we drove by some of the homes featured on different episodes of Fixer Upper (and some of the women in our van could cite season and episode for each one!), including the home and workshop of Clint Harp of Harp Design. (Fans of the show know he’s the one who builds beautiful tables for Joanna after she walks into his workshop with a big, “Hey, Clint!”) But we also drove by Lake Waco, through the impressive campus of Baylor University, and saw the confluence of the Brazos and Bosque rivers from lush Cameron Park.

Our guide entertained us with the legend of the park’s Lover’s Leap, where a young Native American couple are said to have jumped to their deaths just to be together forever. Once back on the bus, he led us in singing the similarly themed hit from the ‘60’s, “Running Bear,” complete with hand motions. Pure fun.

There’s so much authentic American history in Waco, and Kathy and I were impressed with how clean and well-kept the city was, as were the roadways we drove throughout Texas. We didn’t have time to visit the Dr. Pepper Museum (Dr. Pepper was invented in Waco!) or the Texas Ranger Hall of Fame and Museum, but overall it was a fantastic trip. Think about makin’ your way to Waco for all things Magnolia…and more!

My Beau

April 25, 2018 by Nancy 24 Comments

He had me at hello. From the moment I took him out of the cage at the adoption center at PetSmart and he wrapped his front paws around my neck and snuggled his head under my chin, I knew he was my cat. What I didn’t know was that he was a one-woman cat, and I would be his woman.

At PetSmart his name was Jellybean, but that just didn’t seem to fit. I had gone cat shopping because I read an article that a solo cat might become depressed. I’d looked over at our cat, Molly, and assessed she was. What she needed was a beau! So Jellybean became Beau Brummett.

As it turned out, the two cats never really bonded, and truth be told, Beau bullied Molly a bit. But for 13 years they enjoyed one another’s company from a distance, established their own rules about whose couch was whose, and had a workable détente.

We had to let go of Beau three weeks ago, and I’m just now able to write about him. It’s been a heartbreaking loss, not just because I loved him, but because he loved me so completely and so unconditionally, and there was nothing I could do to save him. The third round of cancer was too much for all of us. He was only fourteen and a half so it seemed too soon to see him go, yet it was time.

This won’t be one of those tributes touting perfection, however. Beau’s biggest character flaw was that he was afraid of small children, possibly the victim of being carried around in a neck hold by a toddler before we adopted him. As a result, he was labeled “the mean cat” by all of our grandkids because if he couldn’t avoid them, he hissed at them. I know their parents wondered why we kept him around.

We did because of who he was the rest of time. Part Maine Coon, Beau came when called, was trainable, and loyal beyond description. He was the most excellent of cats in terms of his cat-like characteristics. Curious to a fault, he got shut up in the pantry more than once while checking out the supply of cat food. He would be the first to jump into an empty box and found Christmas boxes especially fascinating.

And he was a quick learner. Just one leap off the second-story deck in an attempt to catch a hummingbird and he decided not to do that again!

He was the most affectionate animal I’ve ever been around. Often he would come up to me and put his front paws on my legs, look up at me with those big golden eyes, and want me to pick him up. I was putty in his paws, so most of the time when I was home he was in my arms, perched over my shoulder, or on my lap—even when I was at the computer.

We had two official snuggle times, right before my husband Jim and I went to sleep and first thing in the morning. He never missed one of them, and usually waited in the hallway from about 9:30 PM on to remind me it was time to go snuggle. Any wonder my arms have felt achingly empty? (Jim reminds me that he is willing to snuggle any time, but apologizes for not being fuzzy enough!)

I don’t know what else to say. I miss him. It hurts. I’ve always been sensitive to the grief people feel when losing a pet, but will be even more so now. I don’t want to compare this in any way to the deeper grief of losing a family member or close friend, but I did lose a close and loving companion. No doubt about it.

I’ve cried my way through three PetSmarts and the Humane Society where I went just to visit the cats. I don’t know why. There isn’t a cat alive who could replace Beau, and I know that. Besides it’s too soon to even try to love another cat. Somehow I just had to look.

And while Molly won’t snuggle (please! she just can’t be bothered) her “personal assistant” purr-sonality has her following me all over the house, and she is blossoming now that the whole house is hers. We love her, too, and she deserves to be queen for a while.

When I was praying over Beau for healing, and yes I did, I heard the Lord remind me, “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” To comfort me in my grief, He’s whispered, “Think of what a great gift he was to you, not what a great loss you feel now.” OK, Lord, I’ll try. But he was my buddy. My Beau.

To those readers who think they don’t like cats, may I say it’s just like any other bias. Get to know just one well, and you will change your opinion.

Carol, Agnes, and the Love of Purses

April 21, 2018 by Nancy 14 Comments

Once again I’m pleased to feature fellow LPC author Carol G. Heilman in my “Take My Hand Again” blog. Carol has written two books about the antics of Agnes Hopper, an assisted living resident who gets into all sorts of scrapes and situations. I thoroughly enjoyed meeting Agnes in Agnes Hopper Shakes Up Sweetbriar and look forward to catching up with her in Agnes Bets on Murder. (Find both at Amazon.com.) Meet Carol, and then enjoy her blog post about Agnes and her love of purses!

Meet Carol
Carol Heilman, a coal miner’s daughter, married her high school sweetheart, a farmer’s son. She began writing family stories, especially about her dad’s Appalachian humor, for newspapers and magazines. One day her mother said, “We don’t have any secrets anymore!” Her book series on Agnes Hopper (see above) was inspired by her mother’s spunky spirit and her dad’s humor. She has recently moved, along with her husband of fifty-plus years, from the mountains of NC to Charleston, SC. They love to play cards, go antiquing, hike, and visit grandsons on the east and west coasts.

The Love of Purses
Pocketbooks, handbags, purses–whatever you call them, they are essential items in most women’s wardrobes.

I have a collection of old ones that I hold dear. The largest tapestry one, as well as the tiny beaded one, belonged to my great grandmother. Mother’s oldest sister carried the soft black purse. I found the black one with the silver handle in an antique shop.

Agnes Marie Hopper, the main character in my books, also loves purses. She found her favorite, a red-leather one soft as a baby’s behind, in a garage sale. She carries it everywhere, even to the retirement home’s front porch where she rocks and knits and tries to straighten out her tangled thoughts.

Agnes always has a Cox Brothers Funeral Home fan resting in an outside pocket of her big purse. The small southern town of Sweetbriar can be sultry hot, just like that July day when she moved to The Manor. Only on that day, when she needed it the most, her fan had seemed to vanish.

Agnes once told her daughter, Betty Jo, “Every woman ought to have a rain bonnet, a fan, headache powder, and a clean hanky in her purse at all times.”

Do you have a favorite purse?
Why is it your favorite?
What does it look like?
Is it old or new?
What items do you think are essential to carry?

An Easter People

March 27, 2018 by Nancy 16 Comments

One of my favorite quotes is from St. Augustine and reads, “We are an Easter people and alleluia is our song!” I love it because it speaks not only to the joy we can have when celebrating Resurrection Sunday, but also to the abundant life that those who believe in the risen Lord can have all year long.

We are an Easter people when we count our blessings and realize we can never get to the end of the list. Alleluia!

We are an Easter people when we gather together and praise the Lord. Alleluia!

We are an Easter people when we open God’s Word to see what encouragement, correction or advice He has for us each day. So we lift up our alleluias before we intervene in prayer for people we love.

We are also an Easter people when we get bad news about a friend or loved one’s diagnosis, or a scary report from our own doctor. Even through our fears we can sing alleluia because of Jesus’ promise in John 16:33: “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

We are an Easter people when we grieve. A parent, spouse, sibling, or child dies, and we wonder how we will get through the next few days and the rest of our lives. How will we even be able to speak at the memorial service if that is required of us? Then we remember the Lord promised in 2 Corinthians 12:9, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” We experience that grace descending upon us to comfort us, strengthen us, and be the wind beneath our wings. And so somehow we still sing alleluia—even with a lump in our throats.

Yes, Easter people grieve, but not like those who have no hope because we have the promise of eternal life. Jesus said in John 11:25, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.” Alleluia indeed!

If you aren’t yet one of the Easter people, could this be the Easter that you explore who Jesus is and become one? It’s so easy. Simply believe that Jesus is the Son of God, acknowledge that you are a sinner in need of a Savior (as are we all), and ask the risen Lord to forgive you and come into your heart. When you do, the indwelling of the Holy Spirit will be yours immediately, and a permanent song of alleluia will begin to echo in your soul.

As C.S. Lewis said, Jesus is either a liar, a lunatic, or Lord. (Jesus didn’t leave the “good guy” option open to us.) If this is the first Easter you proclaim him Lord, it will be a wonderful celebration for you here—and the angels will celebrate in heaven, too!

“A Christian should be an alleluia from head to foot,” St. Augustine also said. Christians don’t get everything right. We need forgiveness as much as anyone. And grace. And mercy. But no matter what, “We are an Easter people, and alleluia is our song!”

Flights Not So Fancy

March 15, 2018 by Nancy 18 Comments

Well, our bags aren’t packed but we’re ready to go. My husband and I will be “leaving on a jet plane” twice this spring on short trips to visit family, and it has me thinking about the changes in air travel since I took my first flight.

I’m pretty sure all of our 12 grandchildren flew on an airplane before they were three years old. Some of them flew at much younger ages and quite frequently. I don’t know about you, but I was 16 when I first traveled by air. I’d volunteered to co-chair the Teenage March of Dimes in my hometown of Knoxville, TN. The other co-chair (a boy I thought was especially dreamy!) and I traveled all the way to Memphis with the group sponsor for the regional kick-off and training. I’m pretty sure that even though Memphis is in the same state, we changed planes in Atlanta to get there. (My mother always said she’d have to go through Atlanta to get to heaven, but since she has already departed I’ll have to wait to ask her if that was the case once I see her there!)

For sure we traveled on Delta Airlines, the airline of the South, and my heart was racing as we walked on to the tarmac to climb up that long, steep stairway to get on the plane. I looked back once to see my mom and dad pressed up against the window of the terminal waving and smiling. Because those were two relatively short hops, I don’t remember being served a meal in flight on one of the divided trays they used in the 60’s (remember linen napkins and real silverware even in coach?), but just having a Coca-Cola and bag of peanuts that I didn’t have to share with my sisters was the height of luxury to me.

I also remember how beautiful and glamorous I thought the stewardesses were. (They weren’t called flight attendants in those days.) They looked like Miss America contestants to me with their fancy hairdos, perfect makeup, jaunty hats, and pressed uniforms. On the printed material in the seat pocket were illustrations of stewardesses serenely sliding down the emergency ramps in their heels—and I was reassured by how easy they made it seem.

But at the risk of sounding like a geezer, flying just isn’t what it used to be. Compare the flying you did as a teenager or young adult with your last experience and you’ll agree. Obviously the necessarily stricter security measures have contributed to the change. Once you are scanned or patted down and walk to the nearest chair in your socks carrying your belt and shoes, your expectations for a glamorous travel experience are pretty much over. Add delayed or canceled flights, no leg room, possibly surly gate agents and exhausted flight attendants, and there’s little magic left to write home about.

And how the dress passengers consider appropriate has changed! My mom always traveled in a suit with heels, and my dad wore a sport coat and tie. Dressing to travel was akin to dressing for church. You wanted to look your best. I’m OK with more comfortable, casual travel clothes, but do people really have to board in their pajama bottoms, muscle shirts, and flip-flops—even on an early morning flight?

Yet parts of flying never disappoint. My husband and I woke up in Rome, Italy, one morning in 2011 and went to bed in our own bed in Colorado Springs, CO, that night. We must never stop thinking of that as anything but incredible! There’s also something about flying that gets the cobwebs out of my mind and invigorates my soul. Gazing out the window of a plane seemingly eye level with a full moon, or looking down on fields of puffy clouds, it’s impossible to miss what an amazing universe we are blessed to inhabit.

Some of my best ideas and insights have come while traveling on a plane, and I don’t think that will ever change. Flying helps us realize just how awesome God’s Creation is. When we can hold fast to the best and not fret about the rest, it’s still an adventure worth taking. And remember, any flight that lands safely is a good flight!

The Seed Planter

February 28, 2018 by Nancy 37 Comments

I never met Billy Graham. I never attended one of his crusades, but I did see them on TV. So many notable people who knew him personally have written glowing tributes to “America’s Pastor” since he went to glory on Feb. 21, 2018. While my words won’t measure up to theirs, I feel compelled to add a few to the collection because the Lord whispered in my ear this week, “He impacted you too, you know.”

My parents took my sisters and me to church faithfully when I was growing up. I memorized the books of the Bible and was rewarded with a very fancy bookmark. Yet in all those years, no one really told me about the importance of having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. No one told me I would need to surrender my life in order to gain it. But I saw people doing that on TV, and the seed was planted.

As a little girl, I was amazed at the immensity of the crowds that came to hear this preacher with the strong voice and the familiar Southern accent. They filled rows and rows of huge stadiums. Not even the University of Tennessee football stadium, the biggest one I’d ever seen, would have been large enough to hold them all. I was moved to tears one night as I watched people of all ages and all colors leaving their seats to come down to the front where Billy Graham stood. The amazing hymn “Just As I Am” echoed up to every ear, and so they came. They came to accept God’s gift of salvation, and commit their lives to Christ.

Little did I know that when I dried my eyes and went to bed that night, a strong seed had been planted in the heart of this little Tennessee girl. With the seed came a message whispering, “there’s more.” It wasn’t until years later, when my life was derailed by the crisis of divorce, that I fell to my knees with tears streaming down my face and cried out to the Lord. “This is too hard,” I sobbed. “Everything is so messed up. I need for You to take over.” My life changed that day from one ending in death and destruction to one with the promise of eternity. And all because a seed was planted and took root. I knew there was more to a life of faith than what I had experienced because Billy Graham said so, and all those people leaving their seats agreed. Just as I was, I came.

Can you just imagine the conversation in heaven last week?
God: It’s time for Us to bring my servant Billy Graham home.
Angel: But why now? He’ll be 100 in a few months. Shouldn’t he stay for the party?
God: Now is the time because he has fought the good fight. He has finished his race. He’s too weak to deliver my message of salvation again himself, but once he comes to Us, those reporting his passing will proclaim it throughout the land once again! Throughout a land that needs the good news of the gospel message as salve for its wounds. We will bring him home now.

And so it was. With a grateful heart I praise God for raising up a man like Billy Graham in our generation. I didn’t meet him here, but I’ll meet him there. In the meantime, I believe I have some seeds to sow in his honor.