Back Porch Break

The Glory Walk

August 15, 2022 by Nancy 17 Comments

In her recent book Waymaker author Ann Voscamp calls the times she goes out to walk in nature her “glory walks,” meaning it’s when she can just bask in the natural beauty of God’s creation and absorb it into her soul. My early morning walks this summer have been just that, so I’m savoring these late summer mornings before the temperature drops and the wind howls.

I usually come home from a glory walk having developed a new perspective, sorted out a problem, or gleaned new insight into life’s mysteries. One day recently I spied two tiny baby rabbits nibbling grass beside the sidewalk. When my big, scary black shadow covered them, their mother scurried out of the brush and herded them back to safety. I wouldn’t have hurt them for the world, but she didn’t know that. That morning as I walked I prayed for all the young moms in our family and church trying to protect their offspring from the evils of our current culture. Not a prayer that would have come to mind without my walk, but a needed one.

This morning’s walk was different—a new route and an additional kind of glory. After a too-early appointment for a bone density scan, I decided to walk around the big lake in a city park in our town. The city’s done a wonderful job of maintaining the park, but still it is in a sketchier part of town than I usually navigate alone so I pulled up to the lake, locked the car, and set out with a bit of trepidation.

I didn’t walk far before my fears were forgotten. The lake was glistening in the sun, the geese were plentiful, and the mountain peaks were glorious. I passed other walkers with dogs and exchanged pleasantries. As I passed by a bench where a young man was sitting near an elderly woman in a wheelchair I heard him remark, “See grandma, all these people are walking to stay fit.” I paused and turned toward them. “That reminds me of a sign I just saw in my doctor’s office,” I said. “It read, ‘I AM in shape. ROUND is a shape!’” That gave them both a good laugh and I was glad I could brighten their morning.

As I made my way toward the far side of the lake I passed a few homeless people, including a young man trying to teach himself to jump rope with a long piece of black cable. I called out a “good for you!” as I passed.

Suddenly this was beginning to feel more like a pilgrimage than a glory walk, so I wasn’t surprised when on the far side of the lake I encountered a group of young Black men and women playing by the shore with an older dog and a passel of puppies. One young man with dreadlocks to his waist was holding two of the cutest puppies I’ve seen in a long time. I might have nodded and walked on, but then I’m reading Senator Tim Scott’s new book America, A Redemption Story. In it he says if we are ever going to heal the racial or political divides in this country, we can’t depend on the government to do it. We each have to do some small thing to make a difference each and every day.

That message speaks to my heart, so rather than nod and pass by, believing they would have no interest in talking to an old white woman, I approached the group and began fawning over and petting the puppies. After a few minutes I excused myself and said, “I can’t stay or I’ll be begging to take one of those puppies home, and neither my cat nor my husband would be happy about that!” We all laughed and waved as I walked away.

Who’s next, Lord? I didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Ahead of me I saw a large Black man standing under a canopy of oak trees to the right of the sidewalk. As I approached I heard him call out, “Come and get it, I ain’t comin’ to you!” Assuming he was calling a dog, I stopped to see if I could spot the pooch. Soon I realized he was holding an open bag of peanuts, and he was addressing six or eight squirrels who were leaping about on the grass in front of him. Another day I might not have approached him, but emboldened by Scott’s book and my experience with the puppy posse, I struck up a conversation by saying something obvious like, “Oh, you’re feeding the squirrels!”

“Yes’m,” he replied. “They know I’m comin’ every day and they wait here for me.” We chatted a bit and as I started to walk away he called out, “Mam, will you pray for me? My name’s Charles and I’m goin’ through some trials. Will you pray for me?”

“I will, Charles. I promise!” I called back to him. I don’t know why he pegged me as a woman who prayed, but for the rest of the walk to my car I asked the Lord to bless Charles, a modern-day St. Francis of Assisi. “Lord, I don’t know what trials Charles is facing, but you do. Be with him today, Lord. Protect him and give him your peace.”

As with most glory walks, at the end of this one I felt blessed and changed. Faith is greater than fear. To God be the glory!

Coupon Clipping

June 22, 2022 by Nancy 10 Comments

My name is Nancy and I’m a coupon clipper. Yes, I admit it. For most of my adult life I’ve been addicted to picking up a pair of scissors and clipping coupons I think I might be able to use from any and all sources. BOGOs are a definite trigger for me (buy one get one free!), so those never go unclipped.

Do I use these coupons? Well, sometimes! I organize them by category and keep them in a small purse in my car. On a good day I remember to sort through the food coupons before going into the grocery store and take the ones correlating to something on my list. Of course I’m also guilty of buying something I didn’t really need just because I have a coupon for it, so that may negate some of the savings I’ve accumulated over the years.

When I worked at Current, Inc., in the eighties and nineties, we even sold a product for organizing coupons. A coupon clipper’s delight, it was a pouch that fit over the edge of the shopping cart and had preprinted dividers to keep each category easy to find.

Even this handy tool couldn’t prevent the two downfalls of the coupon clipper however: letting the coupons expire before using them or forgetting to turn valid ones in to the cashier when you check out! I confess to being guilty of both and yes, I’ve been so frustrated with myself for not using a coupon I intended to use that I’ve gone back to the store with the receipt and coupon in hand and asked for a refund. It’s not the money, it’s the principle!

With food prices skyrocketing, coupons may become more of a necessity. But to all coupon clippers everywhere, may I say the times they are a changin’! When I took a friend recovering from surgery to do her grocery shopping, she was vigilant about finding the items for which she had a coupon, but I never saw her hand over the coveted clip-outs to the cashier.

“Did you forget to use your coupons?” I asked, hoping to spare her the coupon clipper’s contrition. “Oh, they’re all on my phone so they went through automatically,” she said.

What? Yes, I’d seen the grocery store ads for mobile apps that allowed you to access coupons, but I never imagined that practice would be so easy, or that it could replace having clipped-out coupons completely. I stood amazed.

So now that’s my goal. Sorry, scissors. I may not be needing you as much. Someday soon I, too, may waltz through the grocery store coupon-less, phone in hand. I know the people behind me in line will be glad I’m speeding up the check-out process. They’ll no longer have to overhear the cashier telling me, “Sorry, you had to buy three to get one free,” or “this one’s expired” as she hands the coupons back to me. My, oh my. What will they think of next?

The Smoky Hills

May 24, 2022 by Nancy 10 Comments

This week I’ll be spending a few days in the Smokies, so I revisited this column I wrote for the Gazette in Colorado Springs 26 years ago. Hope you enjoy your visit too!

Growing up in East Tennessee, my definition of mountains began and ended with the Appalachians, specifically Great Smoky Mountain National Park.

Whenever I travel back in that direction I always watch for the rounded green summits veiled in blue haze from the window of the airplane. When I see the mountains, I know I’ll soon be home.

As a Girl Scout on a day hike or a young woman on a backpacking adventure, those peaks always seemed plenty high to me, so I was a bit shocked when my Colorado husband said, “you mean the smoky hills” when I spoke to him of my native mountains.

It’s true the Smokies will never “measure up” to the Rockies. Although the national park encompasses the highest portion of the Appalachian range, Clingmans Dome is the highest of the 16 peaks over 6,000 feet, and it only measures 6,642. There are no fourteeners in the Smokies.

The Cherokee Indians named the mountain range that was their home Great Smoky because of the haze that continuously nestles in the valleys and glistens in the morning sunrise. The mist comes from the dense vegetation, and the park still boasts 150 species of trees and over 2,000 species of plant life, including the white-blossomed rhododendron, pink azalea, and myriad of ferns and wildflowers that I remember lining the moist mountain paths.

It’s impossible for me to think back to hiking the trails of the Smokies without remembering the cool smell of green, or my delight at discovering a “jack in the pulpit” nestled amongst the wildflowers.

Most summer, Sunday afternoons when I was little my family drove to the mountains to cool off. We stopped for a big lunch at the Apple Tree Inn in Pigeon Forge, a sleepy little town before Dolly Parton built Dollywood and all the other tourist attractions sprang up. Then we’d roll down the windows in the station wagon and take the windy road through Gatlinburg and all the way to the top of Clingmans Dome. My dad would drop a quarter in the long-range binoculars and my sisters and I would take turns standing on “tippytoe” to see all the way to Virginia.

A few descendants of old mountain families still live in pockets within the park, having managed to get lifetime leases from the park service when the land was claimed by the government in 1934. But most of the residents then and now are the white-tailed deer, raccoons, foxes, and black bears that call the Smokies home.

Before tourists were discouraged from interacting with wildlife, we used to get out of the car whenever we saw a bear and run to toss it stale Ritz crackers or take its photo. At school each Monday there would be a competition as to who had seen the most bears the day before. Twenty-one is a record I remember claiming.

Only in the Smokies can you rock on the front porch of a rustic cabin and listen to the Roaring Fork river dance around the boulders as you “soak in” the mountains. While I may marvel at the Rockies, I can’t say that I ever remember “soaking them in” as I always have the Smokies.

Gentle, green, smoky hills, you aren’t tall, but you are beautiful to behold.

All photos courtesy of Steve Hixon, www.stevehixonphotography.com.

The Flower Fields

May 9, 2022 by Nancy 9 Comments

One can grow very weary waiting for spring to bloom in Colorado, so imagine my delight when we visited The Flower Fields in Carlsbad, California, during peak season. We went to California the end of April to meet up with friends and celebrate my husband Jim’s 75^th birthday, but strolling through fields of flowers while there was certainly a highlight.

The 50 acres at Carlsbad Ranch are dedicated to growing 13 colors of Ranunculus flowers (in the buttercup family) both to sell and for the production of bulbs. According to the website, “The fields today are a direct result of nearly 85 years of floral cultivation that began with Luther Gage, an early settler and horticulturist that settled in the area in the early 1920’s. Mr. Gage brought Ranunculus seeds to the area and began growing them in his fields next to Frank Frazee’s small vegetable farm in South Oceanside. In 1933 Frank Frazee also started growing Ranunculus and introduced his son Edwin to the art of seeding, cultivating and irrigating the pretty but not yet popular flower.”

What today’s visitors see from March through mid-May is a legacy of beauty for sure. In addition to the Ranunculus fields, specialty and artistic gardens with a variety of flowers grace the property. A desirable event venue for weddings and other events, the property also includes a pavilion, a demonstration garden, a sweet pea maze, and fun activities for kids on school field trips. We got to listen in as a performer delighted a group of kindergartners with his catchy song, “Dirt Made My Lunch.” Such a fun way to learn about agriculture!

Of course there’s also an extensive garden center on the property and an irresistible gift shop. I guess hope truly does spring eternal, because I bought a package of Ranunculus bulbs to try in my backyard garden. The master gardener there assured me they would do just fine in Colorado. Mmmhmm.

Whether my bulbs bloom, I’m sure to be California dreamin’ about The Flower Fields for some time. So glad I can say, “Been there. Got the T-shirt!”

The Cross at Easter

April 14, 2022 by Nancy 8 Comments

Carrying his own cross, he went out to the place of the Skull (which in Aramaic is called Golgotha).

Here they crucified him, and with him two others—one on each side and Jesus in the middle.

John 19:17-18

In a sense, the entire Christian life is a series of steps closer and closer to the Cross of Calvary—with each step an arrival. Only as we draw close in prayer and meditation to the truth of what Christ did for us by willingly dying on that cross can we realize the enormity of the gift God gave us. For many, that journey is a lifelong process.

We can see the love Christ displayed on the cross even from a distance, where we may have stood terrified and huddled together under some tree on that dark day of crucifixion. We see the love for His mother as He asked the Apostle John to care for her once He was gone. We see the love for the believing thief on the cross next to Him as He promised, “Today you will be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43). We see His love for every man and woman created by His Father throughout history and beyond as He made the ultimate sacrifice for mankind. His sacrifice expressed His love for you and for me.

What do we see as we draw closer? That Jesus didn’t just pay the price for our sin, rather He took on all the sin of the world so that nobody anywhere would have to suffer eternal consequences for being less than perfect. When John the Baptist first saw Jesus on the shore of the Jordan River he said, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29). Believe. Come to the cross, and your sin, past, present and future, is gone. Not rationalized or sugar-coated in some way. Gone. As is the guilt of that sin. You are completely forgiven.

One step closer and we see the abject humility of the one who is both the Son of God and the Son of Man. We see His wounds and the blood flowing down.

He lowered Himself to the very pit of hell—separation from God—so that we might go higher than we could ever go on our own. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross (Philippians 2:8).

The Bible promises that if we also humble ourselves in the eyes of the Lord, He will lift us up. Are you there at the foot of the cross? There’s no better time than this Easter to take that journey. Fall to your knees in humility and worship the One whose resurrection from the dead we celebrate on Easter Sunday. Accept His unconditional forgiveness. You are welcome at the foot of the cross.

Excerpted from The Hope of Glory, Volume Two, Lesson 56.

MORE Hope of Glory!

March 24, 2022 by Nancy 22 Comments

I’m excited to announce to my blog subscribers first that Volume Two of The Hope of Glory, A Devotional Guide for Older Adults, is set to release on March 29 from Ironstream Media. Most books have a back story, and this book’s story goes back a long way.

When I was finishing up The Hope of Glory, Volume One, in 2013 for a 2014 release date, I was dismayed to discover that I had two lessons in the book on the theme of grace. You may know that each of the 57 lessons in the book (one a week plus five for special holidays) was written to be used in a class of residents at an assisted living facility. Since I wrote a new lesson prior to my class each week, it wasn’t until I was compiling the final manuscript that I discovered the duplication. Not only did I need to come up with one more lesson, I didn’t know what I would do with the extra “grace!”

“That’s OK,” I heard the Lord reassure me. “You can use it in Volume Two.”

“Volume Two!” I exclaimed. “Give me a break. I don’t even have this volume off to the publisher and You’re telling me I’m going to be writing Volume Two?” Yep. That was the message.

Since I was in the habit of writing one lesson a week I just kept going and soon had fifteen lessons written for the second book. (Plus the new one I had to write for Volume One of course!) But then I felt led in a different direction.

During the time my mom and my mom-in-law spent in assisted living we learned a great deal about what to do and what not to do to help them navigate this new and sometimes scary season of life. After they passed away, I was left with knowledge I no longer needed. Yet I kept running in to friends who were currently facing how to care for aging parents, and I knew there were many more Baby Boomers sailing in to these uncharted waters daily. I collected research, interviewed caregivers, recorded our memories, and the result was the book Take My Hand Again, A Faith-based Guide for Helping Aging Parents, published by Kregel Publications in 2015.

After all the new book excitement died down (Oprah never did call), I knew I needed to get back to writing weekly lessons for The Hope of Glory but a bit of laziness set in. On weeks that I had the time and felt the inspiration, I would write a new lesson. Other weeks it was just easier to pick up my well-worn copy of The Hope of Glory and use one of those lessons. Besides, I was volunteering at a different facility then so they were all new to those folks!

Fast forward to the pandemic lock-down of 2020—two years ago this month. Out of excuses and still feeling the nudging of the Holy Spirit to finish what was started so long ago, I set up a dedicated writing schedule and completed the manuscript. But then I had to run the publishing gauntlet once again. The wonderful agent I had for Take My Hand Again had retired, and the publisher of The Hope of Glory, Volume One, was purchased by another publisher. Believing in the Divine Agent I still had, into the fray I went and finally received a contract from the new publisher, Ironstream Media, in March of 2021.

Many famous authors write two books a year, following successful formulas their readers have come to expect. I admire them, but I’m not them. Rather I’m grateful for, and content with, the assignments I’ve been given by God, and for the ability to bring them to completion in His way and in His time.

If you’d like to celebrate the launch of this latest joint venture with me, I’d love to have you on my Book Launch Team! All you have to do is agree to spread the word about The Hope of Glory to those who need it most: to anyone who is a senior, works with seniors, or cares for them. This could include at a care facility near you, at your church, on social media, in your small group Bible study, to a neighbor over the back fence, your hairdresser, etc. I’ll send out easy-to-share posts and quotes to the team. Just say, “I’m in!” in the comments section below. (Whether you’re willing to share a little or a lot!)

Let me know how you shared about the book during the month of April and I will enter your name in a drawing for a free book and a $50 gift card to COSAS Phoenix, my stepdaughter Julie’s wonderful collection of colorful imports supporting Mexican vendors. My cat, Annie, will draw the winning name on May 2!

Thank you for reading and for being the wind in my sails! I so appreciate those of you who encouraged me to complete the assignment God gave me. To God be the glory.