People Who Influenced Me - Winnie Chapman Mizell

 

My grandmother Winnie Chapman Mizell was a big influence in my life. She had only sons and adored me as the little girl she always wanted. She bought me perfect little outfits and baby dolls. She took me shopping and to lunch on Columbia Road in downtown Bogalusa, stopping to show me off to each friend we met along the way. Some of my best memories are lying in her four-poster bed next to the long row of jalousie windows. The attic fan cooled the hot, humid air, but also blasted us with the signature Bogalusa paper mill smell. We would talk and talk like two girlfriends!

 Although I loved her dearly, her influence instilled great fear into me, not only by her story of losing her five-year-old son in a hit-and-run accident, but by the worry and negativism that this great loss left her with. She warned me of how God would punish my parents and even cause something to happen to me because of the way they lived their lives. Partly because of this I struggled with trusting that God is good and loving. She taught me to worry, but God has worked on that in my life. He is still working on me in that area. If, before I die, you can see a change in me—more of the peace of God rather than worry--then let that be my testimony.

 

People Who Influenced Me - Earl Odell Foil

 

My grandfather, Earl Odell Foil, had a calm, quiet and patient manner. I adored PawPaw’s calmness. His quietness seemed a strength to me. My mother influenced my respect for him because she portrayed him as a perfect father in her childhood.  He never showed anger. I will admit we didn’t have much to talk about, but he showed me his garden, took me riding on the back of his tractor and told me about armadillos he had seen in the year. Just sitting on the porch side by side felt like security. I admired that he was a deacon in the Baptist church. Because I went to church alone as a child, I longed to go where my grandfather was “the deacon.” I wished I could live in a small town like Bogalusa where MY grandfather was the Postmaster!

People Who Influenced Me - Rosa Green Foil

 

My grandmother, Rosa Green Foil, was a great influence in my life. In many ways, she inspired me to become a Christian. She and my grandfather raised their children in First Baptist Church in Bogalusa, Louisiana. She had been raised herself in Enon Baptist Church. The Green family was large and full of heritage! Heritage I longed for. I saw in their lives what people call “salt of the earth” and “good people.” Their lives seemed connected, clean and peaceful in comparison to my lonely life. As they say “there’s more to the story.”

Although she was sometimes judgmental and religious, it was because of her insistence and the strong Baptist background in her family, that I was sent to a Sunday School as a child even though my parents did not go. I really did fall in love with Jesus there.  I may not have understood much, but I believed and I longed for him.

I loved my grandmother’s intelligence, her smile and her giggles. She was a story teller, and I got my love of family and heritage from her. I save little clippings and keepsakes like she did. Her handwritten family history was the inspiration to do my own. Like the face on the creamy pink cameo that had been her engagement gift, she was the face of heritage to me – and that heritage was Christian. I am very grateful.

 

The Warm-Up

I’ve watched a lot of baseball the past few years. Who knew I'd actually begin to understand the game! We spent all day Saturday at LSU for a double-header. It was windy, wet and cold. The team suffered a disappointing turn-around in the first game and lost it.

 

Disheartened and tired, they began warm-ups for the second game. Before each game, the players get into their positions and practiced throws to each other - high balls and grounders - maintaining the flexibility they already gained from the more intense pre-game warmups. I had sat through them hundreds of times, but hardly noticed. This day, sat in my seat bored and cold. My morning devotional had been about gratitude in small things, I began to be grateful to be able to be there to support - uncomfortable as it was. To be with family….and even to be there FOR THE WARMUP!

 

I noticed the skill and athleticism each player had, built from years of training and years of hard work, hours of sweat and sacrifice.  What WENT WITHOUT SAYING was the warmup. Once the game started, the real feats would begin. The warm-up always seemed like busy work. The players could do it in their sleep. But today I SAW it. I appreciated it!

 

The team had pulled themselves out of disappointment …AGAIN. Did the warm-up help in that process? Here they were, warming up…AGAIN. I looked at my grandsons and wondered, how many "again's" they would face in their lifetimes. I wish I’d paid attention at all the other “warm-ups”. I could have learned from their faithfulness, patience, hard work.

 

Disappointed and tired…they got in position, and did it again. Even the routine throws...grounders, hard-balls and high-balls…. reflected flexibility and skill far above most of the spectators. Far above all the arm-chair quarterbacks. (is that what they call them in baseball?) It showed their readiness to do it all again, to put it all out there.

 

The warm-up "went without saying." Of course, they warmed up! Of course, each one had the skill to catch every ball. That went without saying! They were part of the team.

 

What things go without saying in your life? In this senior season, what things go without saying? Without having to decide or plan? Without recognition? Without being noticed?

 

·        marriages, families and careers built

·        friendships formed and nurtured

·        years of grounding in the God's Word

·        prayers prayed in secret

·        faith, courage and patience formed in our characters

·        Just "showing up" year after year

The seemingly boring things…things that GO WITHOUT SAYING

…thankless activities you don’t even remember accomplishing.

 

Things like morning devotionals, prayer, expressions of thanksgiving, meals prepared, journaling to the Lord, acts of service no one noticed…

 

What "bits" of faith did you muster this week that went without saying? For me, I attended a funeral and offered hugs and prayers. I prayed day and night for a grandson in Marine boot camp. I gave counsel to a friend. Filled in for a parent. Offered gratitude for it all to God. I practiced patience in the mundane - sometimes I succeeded.

 

In it all, the heart, skill, wisdom and strength to do these basics look like a mere warm-up, but, in truth,  are possible because of  years of drills, training, routine, practice. Even as we age, here we are – in position – again – warmed up by life’s routines, training, exercises…ready. Of what does your warm-up consist?

 

A great game, a win, a championship would never happen without the warmup. It may have taken a while to find the right team, right game, right sport, the right routine - perhaps the warm up is "for such a time as this." Are there purposes for which you are being prepared? Your "team" is depending on you. The body of Christ needs you conditioned, warmed up and ready for the game. Your family needs you.

 

Have you been warming up a long time? What do you bring to the game? Have you thought the warm-up equaled the game? Stayed there! Afraid to get in the game. You may not experience defeat that way, but you will never know the thrill of a win. In 2 Timothy 4:3, we are told to "Be ready in season and out." Be ready for what the Lord calls you to. Don't skip the warm up! Be ready to get in the game!

  

Helen Keller said "I long to accomplish a great and noble task. But it is my chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble."

 

 James 1:4 "And let endurance (patience, steadfastness) have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete (mature), lacking in nothing."

 

 

The Gap - The Christmas Stockings

There Rylan stood! Tall and a bit gawky –fourteen and in that in-between stage. Kind of like my life. Kind of like my Christmas Stockings.

The Christmas stockings have hung for more than twenty years. As Christmas approached, if I could add a new stocking that year, I was downright giddy! As soon as I was sure of the name, I ordered a personalized needlepoint stocking. I couldn’t wait to add it to the mantle! Each year the stockings primed my gratitude pump – I was so very grateful! But in 2020, the stockings carried with them bittersweet reminder.

I never dreamed that I would hang eleven stockings on my mantle! I usually hung the stockings all in a row. They fit snugly across my mantle, a memorial to the blessings of God on my life. They make me happy. I took a photo of the stockings hung on my mantle every year.

This year Jennifer gave me an arrangement of Christmas greenery. It was so tall that it forced a divide of the stockings. I chose to divide with the first five older children on the left and the younger six – the ones I call “the second wave”- on the right. I thought of that divide every day the stockings hung. It illustrated the shifting of seasons I had noticed all year. Honestly it made me sad. We had a four year lull between Hayden’s birth and Rylan’s. Infertility made us wonder if five would be the final number. What a blessing to have a second wave of little ones! No one can accuse me of not being grateful or of not knowing how blessed I am!

When Rylan visited, I was stunned at how tall he had grown. I could see my days as a hands-on and “useful” grandmother are numbered. I have loved being useful! Parents have needed babysitters and children need love and attention. Being involved has made my years happy!

The gap reminded me that the first five grandchildren are out of the nest. The last launched in January. It seems Hayden’s “flight” looms larger than the others, or maybe it’s just because he’s the one in the spotlight now or because the year has been lonely. And I have to say, he’s the one who gives the tightest hugs! Covid derailed attending his high school graduation. I love the ceremonies.  They are markers that help me process, adjust. He’s only eighteen, and he joined the Marines. I know Marines go far away. He won’t always be in Colorado when we visit. Covid may prevent us from attending his boot camp graduation – a milestone that is important to him and to us.

Empty nest was more than just a cliche for me. I felt it deeply when my children left the nest. I prepared for it for years. I read and reread a book about letting go.  I questioned moms who had already gone through empty nest. I tried to “practice” by gradually giving each of my children more freedom as they handled each new privilege. I had watched mothers hold on too hard and mother-in-laws cause resentment by refusing to let go of their child. I was bound and determined not to lose my kids by refusing to let go! Each graduation and wedding were rites of passage – not just for them but for me! We treasured the joy with pride and then moved on. I have written a book of scripture and prayers for each grandchild’s graduation. All year as I gathered and wrote, I prayed especially hard for that child. This was Hayden’s year! He’s been in the forefront of my mind and my prayers.

Hayden leaving heralds things to come. Grandchildren will grow up and not need us as much. It’s their due season to become independent. They will not have as much time for us.

So there Rylan stood! But as he stands in the divide – (I must say that he gives some great hugs too!) as a young teen, he foreshadows the time when the second wave will leave us behind.

The “gap” was a reminder, as if 2020 needed a reminder, that our day is waning. We will see our children say goodbye and experience empty nest. They are healthier and stronger and will handle it better than I did. I hope I can attribute that in part to the security and love we gave them. I loved being a mother! The last one leaving signaled an end of a role and a purpose I adored. I love being a grandmother! I am more blessed than any grandmother I know! How grateful I am! But, it’s still hard to let go!

At my age, yes, I am honored to still be useful. To get to spend time with them and care for them. I’ve wondered which graduations I will live to attend. Yet, I am still stunned when I see the oldest of the second group towering between the stockings!

I am not as “elderly” as 2020 said I was! My life is not as diminished as the isolation and pandemic guidelines made me feel.

Rylan towering between the divide reminded me that my influence in his life will wane. Though Hayden is a man and will be a Marine, I believe my prayers for him matter. The good news is, though hugs may come less often, I can be sure they will be the best! And they will be coming from a young man of whom I can be so proud. My heart overflows. The older five and the younger six together fill my heart! There’s no gap there!

 

 

 

A Time To Prune

 When Solomon wrote “for everything there is a season”, I wonder if he thought about pruning. He doesn’t say how one season ends and another begins, but you can be sure that some kind of transition occurs.

The colorful canopy of a crepe myrtle tree is gorgeous. It is strong and hardy, enduring heat and humidity. The delicate blossoms line boulevards and driveways all over Southern neighborhoods.  

Last week the newspaper published an article titled “Don’t Commit Crepe Murder.” I think they print it every year. Apparently winter is pruning season, at least for some plants. Many a husband is sharpening the blades of his chain saw! The writer called the crepe myrtle one of the most controversial and often-discussed plants among gardeners.  With all the controversy in the world, some find theirs in how to prune a tree!

When crepe myrtle trees are in a season of transition, usually in summer, their bark gets spotty and peels. If you don’t know much about crepe myrtles, the peeling bark looks like the tree is not doing well. It looks as if it’s dying, much like a snake shedding its skin. There is a way to prevent the peeling, but it involves lopping off the top of the tree.

But hold your clippers! There is still life inside! Pruning may fix the bark problem, but you lose the colorful canopy of the tree. This is why they it call “crepe murder”!

Are over-zealous loppers eyeing your life? Your fruit? Your lovely blossoms? Have you grown weary of the peeling? A lot has been said this year about cancel culture. Many things look dormant, peeling, over and done.  Lies of the enemy and the culture tell us it’s over. There is no hope, no new life.

Parents joyfully launched their children, but began the transition to an empty nest, missing a role they loved. Others lost career, ministry or financial security. Some lost their role as a wife, a husband.  Many buried their dead this year without the closure and honor of a proper funeral. Older people listened to guidelines of each “Phase” and heard “…but…if you are 65 and older”……as if they suddenly transitioned into “the elderly.”  Diminished…peeled back…in transition….feeling loss.

Transitions in our own life are often messy, sometimes painful. In the end something is being born. Transitions signal the death of one season as life brings forth another. Even if a new season is a good one, the transition is usually hard. Especially hard if you loved the previous one.  

Have you lost something this year? Are you grieving? Re-building strength and relationships? Has division struck too close to home? Have some judged you as dying? Ugly? Given up on you?

I tried to schedule 2020. As always, I prayed, planned and hoped….to draw closer to the Lord, build relationships, to minister, to support my grandchildren, to be a light to the world. I prioritized my activities. By every outward appearance, one could say I lost ground. Signs of life were scarce, at least to a casual passer-by. But inwardly, sap flowed and roots and relationships grew deeper.

From season to season, peeling to peeling, Paul must have felt the grief of transition.

    “Therefore, we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For our momentary light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen, for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.” 2 Cor 4:16-18

The towering canopy of an older tree that has escaped the lopping off is glorious!  You may have to strain your neck to see it. Accept that your peeling is producing that eternal weight of glory! Look up to see the life being displayed!

Someone may be driving through your neighborhood cringing at your peeling bark. Or laughing at your lopped off canopy. Others decide to be helpful and take a chain saw to your tree.

Don’t go judging another’s bark! Look instead for buds of new life. And when we see our own bare bark, be merciful and patient with ourselves as well. Have faith you will again have the smooth fresh bark of a new season and the blossoms that follow. Know that the inner man will overtake the outward and that works of the Spirit replace the dead works of the flesh.

There are legitimate reasons and seasons to prune a crepe myrtle. I don’t pretend to know or be a pruner. Aren’t you glad that the Lord is our master gardener? When he holds the shears, we don’t have to worry that he will misjudge whether there is life or not. He will not censor or cancel us. May we not lose patience and begin lopping off our own fruit or that of another.

How many times has a door seemed closed, a season over? Then suddenly new life springs forth. Fortunately, these even “crepe-murdered” trees usually take this abuse and spring back. How much more will we bloom in the hands of the master gardener.

“Do not rejoice over me, mine enemy. When I fall, I will arise. When I sit in darkness, The Lord will be a light to me.” Micah 7:8  

The Christmas Angel

My skinny little tree has a new topper! Well, kind of an old/new topper. Thanks to eBay I have a genuine antique 1950’s spun glass and cardboard angel! Why is it special? It was an angel exactly like this that my daddy lifted me up each year to place on the top of our tinsel-laden tree. Through the years I remembered the angel. I guess the original one fell apart and was discarded. In the early 80s, I clearly remember a day I was shopping in TG & Y. Oh how I miss TG &Y! I must have been in my early thirties, with 3 little kids and on a tight budget. On the Christmas aisle, in a section of “retro” decorations, there was my angel! At least a reproduction - an inexpensive one at that. I eyed it. Even though I didn’t consider it as fashionable as the topper I had, I wanted it! I put it in my cart, but as I continued through the store choosing gifts, wrappings and stocking stuffers, the calculator in my mama brain decided it was not essential enough to spend - how much - maybe $10, possibly just $5! I could always get it next year. Next time.

For the next 40-something years, I visited the “retro” aisle every year- there were always a few decorations that reminded me of my childhood tree - but never my Christmas angel. Last year, I thought of eBay! I made my first “bid” and waited for a reply! It was substantially more than the 5 or 10 bucks I would have spent in 1980, but worth every penny.

In this pandemic year, few people come to my house. I almost didn’t put up the tree. After all, it’s just a scrawny little tree with hodge-podgy decorations. Then I remembered the angel! I’m happy I put it up. It reminds me of a father’s love and the wonder of a child at Christmas. It reminds me of the year my memories became “retro.” Now, I’ve graduated to “antique.”

2020 has tried to catapult many of us into the category of “elderly.” Almost like a protected species. Certainly into more isolation. Less connection. We are blessed to have lived through many seasons and to remember many “versions” of ourselves. Which of these versions am I now? Likely a composite of them all. I remember them all with gratitude to the Lord who loved me through them. I look forward to seeing a new “edition” in 2021.

P.S. My friend Maureen commented that this describes what God our Heavenly Father meant for our lives to become as we age - a thing of worth and value.