Take My Hand Again

Late-in-Life Love

August 28, 2015 by Nancy 10 Comments

I just spent a delightful day in the company of a close friend, a widow, who told me with stars in her eyes that she “met someone.” Both my friend and her new beau are in their seventies, but as she described their meeting she said it was as if she were thirteen again—all the same butterflies flitting around inside her! The “sweet nothings” they whisper to one another may have to be spoken a bit more loudly at this age, she confessed. And instead of getting-acquainted questions like “what’s your sign?” it’s more likely “are you on any medications?” But the sparkle in her eyes and the giggle in her voice told me this is true love all the same.

Is it ever too late for love? I don’t think so. Many years ago my mom was also in her seventies when she began a long companionship with Cecil, a dear family friend. He had lost his wife and my dad had passed away. The two couples had known one another since junior high. Mom and Cecil kept being asked to the same social gatherings, so eventually he said, “There’s no reason for both of us to drive. I’ll swing by and pick you up.” Thus began a 15-year relationship that nurtured them both.

My sisters and I were very fond of Cecil. Our families had vacationed in Florida together many times over the years, so we already thought of him as a second dad. He was extremely witty, and we quickly welcomed him to family gatherings. We would not have minded one bit had Mom and Cecil decided to take the next step and get married, but they never did. Theirs was a platonic love, but a true one.

And the benefits of their relationship were many. They looked forward to seeing one another and having a reason to get dressed up. I’m sure they both ate more nutritiously than either would have without the other, as my mom would cook a real meal once or twice a week when Cecil came over—usually to watch a University of Tennessee ball game—and they had a standing date for brunch after church.

“We don’t even have to tell each other entire jokes,” Mom said the day she called to let me know what was going on with Cecil (lest I hear rumors of impropriety!). “We know all the same jokes, so one of us just remembers a punch line and we have a good laugh!”

Many seniors would be open to late-in-life love but aren’t sure how to meet someone if they don’t have a lifelong connection like my mom and Cecil shared. Some actually have success with online dating sites, but more likely they connect through a mutual acquaintance or a shared interest. Other couples reconnect at a 50th or 60th high school reunion, after both are single again, and pick up right where they left off—although not as likely in the back of the pick up! Psychologists explain that the spark of “first love” is one that is easily rekindled, and every summer this romantic phenomenon plays out around punch bowls in gymnasiums from coast to coast. This gives new meaning to the phrase “take my hand again” that I’ve been using to refer to adults helping aging parents.

Is it ever too late for love? I think not. As for me, I’ll stick with the love I married when I was forty. A good man is hard to find at any age.

Portions of this blog post are excerpted from the author’s book, Take My Hand Again, Kregel Publications, 2015.

Meet Two New Friends

January 14, 2015 by Nancy 8 Comments

Today I’m happy to introduce my blog subscribers to Carol Heilman, an author I met through Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas (the publisher of my book THE HOPE OF GLORY) and her wonderful character Agnes Hopper. Carol’s book, AGNES HOPPER SHAKES UP SWEETBRIAR, will release on January 29th. Having met some wonderful “characters” in assisted living communities myself, I can’t wait to read it. Click HERE to order on Amazon.com.

When I asked Carol how she came to write about Agnes, this is what she told me:

AGNES HOPPER SHAKES UP SWEETBRIAR began as a short story assignment for a creative writing class at the University of South Carolina over ten years ago. Our instructor told us to place ourselves, along with some of our friends, in a foreign environment and to step back and see what developed.

I chose the porch of a retirement home because a standing joke, among a group of my friends and myself, was that one day we would end up living in such a place together. Before I had written two pages the characters, with their own, unique names took on their own personalities. I was fairly new to such writing adventures and was taken aback. They began to assert themselves and I decided I needed to pay attention, to listen and watch—for my scenes often unfold like a movie in my mind’s eye.

The short story ended when Agnes slipped out the back door of Sweetbriar Manor. Then I began to ask questions. What if she . . . Agnes Hopper’s story evolved and continues to evolve and surprise me. I am delighted to have a part in the telling of it.

Wishing all the best to you and Agnes, Carol! Thanks for sharing.

The Thanksgiving Table

November 25, 2014 by Nancy 18 Comments

I saw her coming down the hall as I was setting up for The Hope of Glory class in assisted living. Her feet were well padded with several pairs of socks, making it possible for her to propel her wheelchair slowly along using one foot at a time.

“Nellie!” I called out. “Are you coming to Bible study? Would you like me to push you?” She answered yes to both questions and then lifted her feet straight in front of her to expedite our journey into the activities room where I wheeled her to the end of the table.

On the table was a multi-colored fall tablecloth. It was one I’d taken home to wash after an event at church, only I’d forgotten to take it in on Sunday, so it was still in the backseat of my car. I saw it when I reached for my book and plate of cookies for class. At the last second I grabbed the tablecloth also, thinking it might brighten someone’s day. Little did I know how much.

During class, I noticed how fascinated Nellie was with the tablecloth. “Oh look,” she said, pointing with her gnarled finger to specific places in the design. “There are apples and grapes on here. I could make apple juice with apples like that—and grape juice with those grapes, too!”

Our lesson was titled Attitude of Gratitude: How it’s important for us, as we age, to replace any grumbling with gratitude for the gift of living a long and productive life. We looked at key Scriptures on thankfulness, including how we are to give thanks in all circumstances as we read in 1 Thessalonians 5:18—not necessarily for all circumstances but in all circumstances. And we talked about how remembering what the Lord has done for us in the past can help us be more grateful in the present. But I’m not sure Nellie was listening.

I noticed her place both hands on the tablecloth, palms down, and begin smoothing out the wrinkles, just as women have done for generations when setting a Thanksgiving table. What is she thinking about, I wondered. Is she remembering Thanksgivings when she set a beautiful table in her home for her husband and children, or when she helped her grandmother smooth out her best linen tablecloth for a family Thanksgiving on the farm?

Nellie picked up one edge of the cloth and slowly ran her fingers along the hem to the corner. I wondered how many tablecloths she had laundered and folded in her lifetime.

I felt so blessed after class. We don’t have family coming home for Thanksgiving this year, so I won’t be setting a fancy table or stuffing a turkey. I’m fine with going out for a change, but seeing Nellie’s reaction to that tablecloth brought back a flood of treasured memories. I remembered my mother’s Thanksgiving table with mums in the turkey centerpiece, and all the tables I set for our family over the years.

Are you setting a table this year? If so, get out your best tablecloth. Smooth out the wrinkles with both hands. During dinner, record the faces gathered ‘round the table in your heart. We can’t always be with the people we’d like to be with on Thanksgiving due to weather, distance, resources, even death or divorce. But we can be grateful for those who are around the table with us, and be fully present for them.

At the end of class today, when I asked Nellie if she had any prayer requests to add to our list, she looked up at me and smiled. After a moment’s pause, she said, “Just for everyone to be happy.” Me, too, Nellie. Me too. Happy Thanksgiving.

Joy Is Where You Find It

October 31, 2014 by Nancy 20 Comments

I was sitting in my doctor’s office waiting to be called in for a flu shot when I saw them enter: a man about my age and his quite elderly mother. He walked slowly, keeping cadence with her pace. She leaned over her walker and shuffled toward the check-in desk.

“My mom is here for her 11:00 appointment,” said the son, giving his mother’s name.

“Has she been in Africa in the last 21 days?” the receptionist asked in all seriousness.

The man looked over at his fragile mother, then back at the receptionist. “Well, I don’t think so, but I guess I should ask her,” he replied. He turned toward his mother and said in a voice loud enough for her and everyone in the waiting room to hear, “Mom, have you been in Africa in the last 21 days?”

From my perspective I couldn’t see the elderly woman’s face, but I could see her frail shoulders bouncing up and down as she chuckled to herself. “No,” she said, and as she turned to move toward a chair in the waiting room I could see the amusement in her eyes still. What a sweet moment the two of them shared. What unexpected joy was found in what was no doubt an appointment neither particularly wanted to keep. The receptionist was just following office procedure during this recent Ebola scare, and didn’t know she’d brightened the day of everyone within hearing distance in the process—especially the day of the elderly patient.

As soon as the man and his mom had come through the door, my heart had gone out to them. It’s impossible for me to see someone helping an elder they love without remembering such days with my mother-in-law and my mom, both now in heaven. Oh, how I prayed I could get my mom-in-law into Wendy’s for the cheeseburger and Frosty she craved without her falling. She planned morning doctor appointments so we could indulge ourselves at Wendy’s afterwards. I didn’t want her to fall on my watch.

My mom remained fairly mobile until near the end of her life, but I remember how cautiously I drove whenever I had her in the car, and how I insisted she wear her seatbelt—an invention she never appreciated fully.

But there was joy in those times, too. How I wish I could take Mary Frances for a Frosty, or Mom for a ride, one more time.

I was called in for my shot. Leaving the doctor’s office a few minutes later I walked by the chairs where the man and his mother were still waiting. The three of us shared a smile, and the knowledge that loving is always worth the price. Especially on days when a little unexpected joy comes your way.

Just Start

August 25, 2014 by Nancy 14 Comments

When my son Tim gave me a copy of Jon Acuff’s book Start I thought the subject might have come a bit late for me, but I was wrong! I just finished the book and it’s full of motivating advice for Boomers like my husband and me who are launching Act 3 of our lives.

I also saw application for elders we all know and love. Even people in their 80s and 90s can “punch fear in the face, escape average, and do work that matters” as this author urges. With thanks to Jon Acuff (who also wrote the wildly popular, humorous book Stuff Christians Like) here’s some motivation for us all.

At any age each of us can stop living an average life and start living an awesome one. Acuff says that to get to awesome there are two questions we should ask ourselves: “If I died today, what would I regret not doing?” and “Are those the things I’m doing right now?” Younger people might have feats like running a marathon or going to medical school on the list of things they would regret not doing, but our seniors may list things like, “Call my sister in Idaho and have a nice long chat,” or “Take a walk around the block each day.” The point is to stop thinking about what you wish you were doing and begin doing it—one small step at a time.

Moving from average to awesome takes us through several stages according to Acuff. First we learn about the things that interest us, then we edit down to just what we are most passionate about. The third stage is to master one or more of our passions. Then we begin to see the fruits of our efforts; we begin to harvest. Finally, in the awesome life, one gets to the stage of guiding or mentoring others. But that’s not the time to rest on your laurels. Oh no. Once you get to guiding, then you simply start again!

When I think of the older adults I know and love, I wonder if they fully realize how much they have mastered, and how valuable and helpful it would be for them to enthusiastically share their harvest and guide others. Even if it’s how to make a pie crust or when to plant spring crops, every older person has something to share. When we encourage them to do so, we will watch them change from average to awesome right before our eyes.

Did your mother immigrate to this country as a child? Did your dad serve in World War II? Help them tell their stories to a group of school children and share some living history. Do you know an older woman who might be willing to teach someone how to crochet? The opportunities for “awesomeness” are limitless.

As longevity increases, news reports are replete with stories of people in their 90s and beyond who take their first motorcycle ride, go skydiving, or take a long anticipated vacation. But it doesn’t have to be something so dramatic to move older adults from average to awesome. Listen to what matters most to the elders you love, and help them find a way to move closer to living an awesome life. It’s never too late to start.

Remembering Momilies

May 8, 2014 by Nancy 18 Comments

A friend from high school recently posted this former blog post on Facebook so I thought I would send it out again, too. Momilies are timeless! Happy Mother’s Day!

I grew up in the South thinking everyone’s mother said, “Katie, bar the door” in times of trouble and “I’ll swan” when something truly amazing happened. On a really busy day, there would be “no flies on us,” and when something was perfectly ready it was “all saucered and blowed” (like you do to hot coffee before you drink it). My mom also described someone who talked all the time as having been “vaccinated with a phonograph needle,” and a braggart was “too big for his britches.”

Now that my mom is gone, I’m glad I have these momilies to remember. Momilies are like homilies but a lot less preachy. They are the gentle bits of advice passed from moms to children and repeated with a frequency that insures their remembrance.

“Rise above it” my mom would say when she was encouraging me not to stoop to someone else’s level. Whether applied to junior high gossip or office politics, this simple three-word phrase always has helped me keep my focus.

“It’ll never show on a galloping horse” was my mom’s version of “don’t sweat the small stuff.” A pimple on the end of your nose the night before the prom? A greasy stain on one of the linen napkins you need for a dinner party? Not to worry. “It’ll never show on a galloping horse.”

In fact, horses were the source of a lot of wisdom. “Don’t put your cart before your horse” was trotted out whenever I impatiently scrambled the logical order of events, and “no sense closing the barn door after the horse gets out” reminded me to think about the consequences of what I was doing before it was too late.

There must have been chickens in the same barn, because I was frequently reminded not to count them before they hatched. (They may have been the same chickens who later ran around with their heads chopped off.)

Young girls coming to terms with their physical appearance need all the support they can get. My sisters and I remember our mom telling us “beauty knows no pain” as we squeezed into too-small patent leather shoes or girdles with garters. But since she was a lot more concerned about our behavior than our beauty, we also daily heard “pretty is as pretty does” and “beauty comes from the inside out.” Little did we know it was her subtle way of teaching us the truth of 1 Peter 3:4 which describes beauty as “a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s eyes.”

Whenever we said we wanted something we didn’t need or couldn’t have, Mom would remind us that “people in jail want out.” It was years before I saw the connection between those people in jail and me. I just knew that whenever they came up, I wasn’t going to get what I wanted!

When it came to wanting all the food I saw in a cafeteria line, Mom would say, “don’t let your eyes be bigger than your stomach”—meaning take only what you can really eat!

That particular momily is one I passed on to my own kids. My son said it was years before he knew what it meant, but he sure thought about the possibility of having eyes that big! Since I also warned him not to “cut his nose off to spite his face,” he worried about his facial features a lot.

Although it was always strange to hear the same momilies my mom used coming out of my mouth, I’m glad I passed them on. After all, she wasn’t “just whistlin’ Dixie.”

The End of the Journey…or the Beginning?

April 3, 2014 by Nancy 14 Comments

If a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, then the journey to having a book you’ve written appear on your doorstep should begin with the first word, right? Actually, with The Hope of Glory: A Devotional Guide for Older Adults, it began long before the first word was written.

Back in 1999, the Lord placed on my heart the desire to do all I could do to connect older adults with their faith—or to introduce them for the first time to faith in Jesus Christ and the blessed assurance of eternal life that could be theirs. I was at a book group meeting and heard one friend ask another if she would be interested in facilitating a Bible study at an assisted living facility. She said no, she didn’t have time. Even though I only overheard the conversation, I felt the Holy Spirit tapping my shoulder and saying, “That was supposed to be for you.” I followed up with a phone call to the friend with the information a few days later, got in touch with the facility, and began a weekly Bible study with a fascinating group of residents there.

After about a year I realized I needed to devote more time to helping my mom and mother-in-law, so I stopped going. But by then the Lord had planted in my heart and mind the idea for devotional lessons directed to the aging population. I began working on the project as I had time, calling it The Hope of Glory after the verse in Colossians 1:27, Christ in you, the hope of glory. I tried shopping it around to publishers but didn’t get an acceptance, so it just joined other back-burner projects in my files. In fact, as my friend Merrily says, it’s possible I took it off the stove entirely!

But the Holy Spirit didn’t forget about it. In May, 2010, I began visiting my friend Denise in the assisted living facility where she had just moved. At first it was difficult for me to even enter the building, as it brought back so many memories of my mom and mother-in-law, both of whom had passed away. But I kept going back because of Denise, and I began to feel more comfortable there. One day I stopped to look at the activities calendar posted on the wall. I noticed there were no Bible studies listed. The Holy Spirit used that information to get my attention again.

A few days later I was leaving our church, which is almost across the street from the assisted living facility, and I heard the Spirit say, “Why don’t you just go over there and ask them if they need you?” So I did. I walked into the activities director’s office, introduced myself, told her where I went to church, and said, “Do you need someone to lead a Bible study or anything?” She smiled and said, “I left my card at your church, but I haven’t heard from anyone yet.” I got chills as we both realized God had sent me. Not only did I feel that I had a new assignment, I sensed the Lord not putting my writing project back on the stove, but rather of His taking it off a high shelf, blowing the dust off of it, and handing it to me saying, “Now, after all you’ve been through with your mom and mother-in-law, you are ready to finish this.”

Just weeks later I began volunteering, writing a new lesson for the class each week. Once I had 52 lessons, plus five more for special holidays, I began the search for a publisher again. The Hope of Glory: A Devotional Guide for Older Adults, was released by Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas in March 2014. I’m not telling you all this to promote the book (although I’d love for you to see what it has to offer the elders you know and love), but to share two important lessons learned from the most drawn-out writing project of my life.

First, if God gives you an assignment, He won’t let you forget it. I hate to use the word “nag” in relation to the Holy Spirit, so let’s call it “encouragement that can feel like nagging!” Second, the completion of this book should reassure us all that God has not forgotten the older adults among us. In fact, His heart burns with love for them, and He sends His people to minister to them and share the life-saving truth of the gospel with them.

That’s why I pray that seeing the book in print on my doorstep, at long last, is not the end of this journey. I pray it’s the beginning of how the Lord will use The Hope of Glory to accomplish His purposes. My job now is to stay out of His way.

Thankful Living

November 27, 2013 by Nancy 18 Comments

When I am a very old woman, I want to be like some of the older women I know. Women who have a perpetual twinkle in their eyes. Women who draw everyone closer to learn the secret to their joy—the secret to their thankful living.

It occurs to me that since we tend to become more of who we truly are as we age, that it’s not too soon for me to practice thankful living: not too soon to turn grumbling into gratitude. I’ve observed that with the perspective of age thankful living has a deeper, broader definition. In years past grandmas and grandpas like us may have found it hard to be grateful if they couldn’t be physically with their kids and grandkids on Thanksgiving. With age, we understand that the real blessing is that these loved ones are in the world, are living the lives ordained for them to live, and that we have them to love. We give thanks.

My husband and I were once having breakfast at a restaurant during the holidays when we struck up a conversation with our waitress. She shared that she was indeed “having a good day” because she was excited about leaving to visit her grandchildren the next day.

“How old are they?” I asked.

“They are eight and six,” the waitress replied.

“How long has it been since you’ve seen them?”

“Oh, I’ve never seen them!” she answered.

I could barely swallow the rest of my breakfast as I realized how blessed we were. Not only did we have 12 grandchildren in our blended family, but we were able to snuggle each one as an infant—and have celebrated many birthdays, milestones, and holidays with various combinations of them over the years. Truly, we are blessed.

So how can we make our remaining days full of gratitude rather than grumbling? How can we engage in thankful living—the lifestyle of thanksgiving that brings a twinkle to our eyes? We might begin like the author Ann Voscamp. When Ann first accepted the challenge to list 1,000 blessings in her life, she had no idea the list would become the best-selling book One Thousand Gifts—or that it would lead to an international ministry. She simply developed the habit of noticing the smallest of blessings: jam piled high on toast, mail in the mailbox, the blue jay singing from the top of the spruce tree. We can do that. What great things will God do with our expressions of gratitude?

When I am a very old lady, I know what the secret will be that puts a twinkle in my eye—but I don’t want it to be a secret at all. It will be the fact that when I sit around a Thanksgiving table to give thanks, I have Someone to thank. I don’t have to thank the universe for my blessings, because I know they come from the Creator of the universe! I thank God. And I pray I can share all I know about His love and salvation until my dying day.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving—followed by a lifetime of thankful living. And may the Giver of all put a perpetual twinkle in your eye! It’s no secret that He wants to give you that gift.

Lee’s Lantana

August 1, 2013 by Nancy 26 Comments

The down side of volunteering with older adults, and getting to know and love them, is that the chances are pretty high you will also have to say goodbye to them in this earthly life and be separated from them for a while. Such was my loss when Lee (short for Leora Jane), one of the residents of an assisted living facility who faithfully attended my weekly Bible study for over two years, died suddenly this month.

I was on vacation when Lee died, but a friend who was filling in for me for the summer called to let me know. I was so glad to find out about a memorial service that was to be held for Lee and to be able to attend when we returned. There I learned so much more about her life than just the last few years spent in assisted living.

Lee loved sitting outside the facility in her wheelchair. Every Wednesday when I arrived, except on the most blustery of days, she would be by the front door. She always greeted me warmly. With her gray pixie haircut, bright blue eyes, and big smile it was a greeting I grew to love. “I’ll be back to get you!” I’d say as I rushed inside to set up for our gathering.

Once our time was over, I knew Lee couldn’t wait to get back outside, so I’d push her back to claim her spot by the front door. One day I noticed a huge pot of beautiful yellow flowers near her spot. “Oh, Lee, those are gorgeous. I’ve never seen them before. Do you know what they are?”

“I don’t,” she replied, “but I’ll find out for you.”

The next week the flowers were still there. Lee still didn’t know what they were, but she’d found out who to ask, so together we learned that the bright, yellow blossoms we both enjoyed so much were lantana. Lee, lantana and laughter, three things that will forever go together for me. The laughter came when I tried to maneuver Lee back out through the heavy front doors and would forget from week to week that taking her over the threshold backwards was the best way to keep from dumping her out! Fortunately I never did dump her, but my awkward wheelchair piloting gave us both some laughs. And we never parted without a hug, after which she would pat my hand and say, “Thank you. I love you.” And I would say, “I love you, too.”

The chaplain who led Lee’s memorial service did a wonderful job. We all got to share our favorite memories. I learned from her family that she hated raisins and wondered how many times I’d served her oatmeal raisin cookies in class. She never complained. The chaplain said, “Lee would want all of us leaving here today with a smile on our faces and a smile in our hearts,” and I knew that was true. I also knew she was now embracing eternal life joyfully, and was with the husband and son she had lost and grieved. Still the tears spilled down my face. I wasn’t crying for Lee, but for my own loss.

After the service, I decided to stop by Home Depot for a couple of things we needed for Saturday chores, in spite of being overdressed and needing to keep my sunglasses on to hide my red eyes and mascara smears. As I walked into the garden area I stopped in awe. Right before me were two very long rows of hanging baskets, all yellow lantana. I know they weren’t there earlier in the season.

It didn’t take me long to put two of the baskets in my cart, justifying that they could replace two that hadn’t done well in the summer heat. Now I get to look at yellow lantana from my office window every day and thank the Lord for my friend, Lee. They not only remind me of her, they remind me that love is always worth the risk, even when it hurts.

Be Prepared

March 26, 2013 by Nancy 16 Comments

Some mottoes are solid enough to sustain us our whole life. How well I remember learning the Girl Scout motto, “Be prepared.” You could still wake me up from a dead sleep in the middle of the night and I would be able to recite the oath, too: “On my honor, I will try to do my duty to God and my country…” Those things we learn at such an early age are forever imprinted.

So what does it mean to be prepared at 65? Obviously it’s not just having spare batteries for your flashlight, matches in a waterproof tin, and dry kindling for a campfire, although those are still excellent practices. It’s not even stocking up gallons of purified water and canned goods in the basement in case of natural disaster, although I followed that advice prior to Y2K (remember that non event?). More recently we’ve thought seriously about what we would want to take with us should we have to evacuate our home due to wildfires. It could easily happen, and we want to be ready. But what else calls us to be prepared?

After a certain age it’s important to “have your affairs in order” as they say: to have all the legal end-of-life documents in place to make life much easier for your children and grandchildren when you go. That kind of advice can be found in any number of resources, and it’s important, but I’ve also picked up tips about being prepared merely by observation.

I’ve been blessed by friendships with several women much older than I who taught me pragmatic approaches to being prepared on a daily basis. For example, my friend Myrtle gave up driving at night, so she reluctantly but graciously accepted offers for a ride to book groups or organizational meetings. Myrtle made fabulous, unforgettable peanut brittle. One thing she did to be prepared was to always have small baggies of fresh peanut brittle to slip into the handbag of anyone chauffeuring her as a personal thank you. Much to my husband’s delight, more than a few of those bags ended up in my purse! She was prepared.

Planning ahead is a coping skill all my older friends cultivate. When we would arrive at an event, I would be digging in my purse for a pen and checkbook in order to pay the pre-arranged fee for lunch, while my older friend Denise simply handed over the check she had filled out in the comfort of her own home before leaving. She was prepared.

Now being prepared spiritually is what matters most to me. We’ve been to far too many funerals this year; most for people our age or younger. Like all who have accepted Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior, I have the blessed assurance of knowing where I am going when I die. I truly believe Jesus has gone to prepare a place for me (John 14:2). Yet I want to be prepared for whatever comes my way before I go to heaven by having the Word of God buried deep in my heart.

I’m beginning to wonder if I will live to see the day when all Christians, even in this country, are persecuted for our faith. If I’m ever incarcerated without a hymnal or a Bible, I want to have a wide selection of hymns and Bible verses memorized to sustain me! I guess the little girl in me who memorized the Girl Scout motto and oath, and earned all those badges on the sash in the photo, still wants to be prepared.