My dad was (and still is) one of the strongest men I know. He is determined but flexible, kind but firm and so, so, so jolly! He was the first fella I ever loved and no other fella could ever take his special place in my heart. His voice is one of my favorites. Even now, after his stroke, when I sometimes don't understand his words, I still love his voice--especially when he calls me by name. I love to hear the timbre of it. It always makes me feel safe and leaves me unconsciously smiling.
One of my fondest memories of him was a day when my family and several others gathered for a picnic at "the river" in the mountains of North Carolina. The weather was perfect: sunny and warm with a slight breeze. The smell of hamburgers and hotdogs filled the air, and my buddies were letting out joyous window-shattering screams as they soared on a rope hanging from a tree in order to free-fall into the river below. It looked like such fun as I watched them soaring through the air--my crazy twin brother among them!
I, on the other hand, was once again being my daddy's shadow. We were in the river. He was chest deep and continued to wade deeper and deeper into the water. I followed him as far as I could, finally perching on a very slippery rock where the water came to my chest. My daddy turned and looked at me. Then, he looked at my crazy monkey of a brother hooping and hollering from the treetops. He must have wondered if I was having as much fun as Troy, my brother. The fact is, I was totally enjoying having my dad all to myself. My dad finally caught my green eyes with his dark brown ones and said, "Lisa...just jump." He smiled very gently. My head said, "No way!" (which is something my mouth would never have said to him). I stared blankly at him for a minute. He repeated, "Lisa, just jump. I've got ya." His eyes never left mine. My heart was screaming, "You know he's got ya. He loves you more than his own life. Jump, Girl". My head was saying, "Are you crazy? That water will be over your head!". The struggle between heart and head seemed to last forever, but finally my heart won. I jumped! For a nanosecond, I began to sink. Water was blurring my vision. Bubbles poured from my lips. I was doubting my decision to jump and starting to get pretty scared, but then...there he was. Those gigantic arms that had helped him win numerous wrestling matches in the service were now tenderly, but powerfully pulling me through the water and up to the surface where he was. I remember him draping my tiny arms around his neck as my legs dangled in the water. He was laughing (I was coughing a bit), and he said, "See? That wasn't bad now. Was it?" The truth is, it wasn't bad. The bigger shock was that it was actually more fun the deeper we treaded into the river. He knew what I didn't. Sometimes you just have to jump!
In so many ways in my life, I'm back at "the river" right now. This season of my life is that nanosecond where I am wondering if I really should have jumped...and what is going to happen next. The truth is...I know that while Daddy can't grab me up into his strong arms again, Abba Father can! I'm just waiting and knowing that at any moment, I will feel myself soaring up through the heavy weight of the river and toward the light of the Son where my lungs will soon be renewed and refreshed. I will laugh and know that all along deeper is better and Abba has had me all along! Sometimes you just have to jump!
Friday, May 17, 2013
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
I Finally Get it, Grandma
My grandmother Pannell was like my second mom. My brother, sister and I were fortunate to have her live with us for most of our lives. It was twice as nice as having your own nanny...cause she was kin! She would have been 98 years old, today. She was born May 8, 1915. She's been gone eight years now; and there isn't a day that passes that my heart doesn't ache to hear her precious mountain woman voice again.
Born in Sylvia, North Carolina and a mere 5'3" and 105 lb frame, she defied all the stereotypes of her day. You couldn't put her nicely in any little box. I love this about her! She and I are the tallest ladies in our family at 5'3"---towering well above my 5' 0" tall mom and sister. She could out muscle a man, out work an ox and outwit the most scholarly. She only had a fourth grade education (due to health issues with her eyes), but I don't know anyone wiser. There wasn't anything from motors and mechanics to sewing and baking that she couldn't fix. It wasn't until I was an adult that I realized that not everyone's grandma had that special talent. She wasn't perfect, but she loved perfectly, and I am still in awe of her. She divorced in a time period when that wasn't acceptable. She raised my mother as a single mom (also frowned upon). She was crass and kind---tough and tender. She was a risk-taker that I'm not and cautious with those she loved. I've never known such a paradox, and I am totally convinced Meleah, my daughter, gets her strong-will from my Mawmaw Pannell. She wasn't graceful, but she was gracious. She didn't have a lot of use for make-up, but she did enjoy a pretty piece of jewelry now and then. She could be found hauling all the "street people" for a lunch at a downtown diner at least once a month. She never gave them cash, but she couldn't bear to see anyone hungry--so she fed them at Sweetland's. She had NO material possessions, but she would consider herself the wealthiest woman alive. She had her God and her family, and these were her greatest contentment. Though she wouldn't be considered posh or well-read by the world's standards, she could be found reading from the Bible at least twice a day, and on occasion she relished a good Grace Livingston Hill novel.
Such opposite characters we are--she the mountain woman who was direct and simple and me the coastal baby who is circuitous and complex---yet my life would not have been complete without her. If I could have her back for only a moment, I would tell her the sweetest memory I have of her is when I was only seven. It was a Wednesday evening service at church. She was singing "The Old Rugged Cross". She sang:
She mispronounced the "f" sound in trophy reading it as a "p" sound. Being an Academically Gifted kid, I felt compelled to correct her until...I looked up and saw her face. At the moment, I knew it didn't matter to God how the words were pronounced. I also knew that at that moment the only thing that mattered to my grandma was Him! As much as she loved me and as much as she loved His people we were insignificant to her expression of love to Him for His sacrifice at that moment. So, I just watched her worship, and it was beautiful. She with her wrinkles and gray hair was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen! She was my proof that there was a God and that He loved me, too! To this day when we sing "The Old Rugged Cross", I intentionally sing it just like her sometimes...and my tropies, I lay down...just to remind myself about what and Who matters most.
Eight years? It's still hard to believe she's gone, and more this year than any I would love to have her back. Before she passed, she was my best friend; so there was nothing left unsaid between us. She knows my secrets, and I know hers. I've never been one for holding my feelings inside, anyhow. So, I have no regrets except...I still don't know how to make gravy and biscuits the way she did and would love another lesson---and though I still distinctly remember the feeling of her soft, small hands in mine, I'd loved to feel those little hands again, But most of all...I'd like to tell her "I finally get it!" Tomorrow my Carter--my sweet grandson-- will be a year old (just one day after her birthday); and I finally get how much she must have loved us. Everyday my heart is overwhelmed by his precious little face. I could never have imagined loving someone as much as Tyler and Meleah. They own my heart!! Yet it is so amazing how your heart expands and just loves more and more! So, I get it, Grandma; and it only makes me love you all the more! I can't wait to introduce you to my precious Carter, one sweet day!
“We all possess knowledge.” But knowledge puffs up while love builds up. 2 Those who think they know something do not yet know as they ought to know.
1 Corinthians 8"1-3
Born in Sylvia, North Carolina and a mere 5'3" and 105 lb frame, she defied all the stereotypes of her day. You couldn't put her nicely in any little box. I love this about her! She and I are the tallest ladies in our family at 5'3"---towering well above my 5' 0" tall mom and sister. She could out muscle a man, out work an ox and outwit the most scholarly. She only had a fourth grade education (due to health issues with her eyes), but I don't know anyone wiser. There wasn't anything from motors and mechanics to sewing and baking that she couldn't fix. It wasn't until I was an adult that I realized that not everyone's grandma had that special talent. She wasn't perfect, but she loved perfectly, and I am still in awe of her. She divorced in a time period when that wasn't acceptable. She raised my mother as a single mom (also frowned upon). She was crass and kind---tough and tender. She was a risk-taker that I'm not and cautious with those she loved. I've never known such a paradox, and I am totally convinced Meleah, my daughter, gets her strong-will from my Mawmaw Pannell. She wasn't graceful, but she was gracious. She didn't have a lot of use for make-up, but she did enjoy a pretty piece of jewelry now and then. She could be found hauling all the "street people" for a lunch at a downtown diner at least once a month. She never gave them cash, but she couldn't bear to see anyone hungry--so she fed them at Sweetland's. She had NO material possessions, but she would consider herself the wealthiest woman alive. She had her God and her family, and these were her greatest contentment. Though she wouldn't be considered posh or well-read by the world's standards, she could be found reading from the Bible at least twice a day, and on occasion she relished a good Grace Livingston Hill novel.
Such opposite characters we are--she the mountain woman who was direct and simple and me the coastal baby who is circuitous and complex---yet my life would not have been complete without her. If I could have her back for only a moment, I would tell her the sweetest memory I have of her is when I was only seven. It was a Wednesday evening service at church. She was singing "The Old Rugged Cross". She sang:
So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross,
Till my trophies at last I lay down;
I will cling to the old rugged cross,
And exchange it some day for a crown.
She mispronounced the "f" sound in trophy reading it as a "p" sound. Being an Academically Gifted kid, I felt compelled to correct her until...I looked up and saw her face. At the moment, I knew it didn't matter to God how the words were pronounced. I also knew that at that moment the only thing that mattered to my grandma was Him! As much as she loved me and as much as she loved His people we were insignificant to her expression of love to Him for His sacrifice at that moment. So, I just watched her worship, and it was beautiful. She with her wrinkles and gray hair was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen! She was my proof that there was a God and that He loved me, too! To this day when we sing "The Old Rugged Cross", I intentionally sing it just like her sometimes...and my tropies, I lay down...just to remind myself about what and Who matters most.
Eight years? It's still hard to believe she's gone, and more this year than any I would love to have her back. Before she passed, she was my best friend; so there was nothing left unsaid between us. She knows my secrets, and I know hers. I've never been one for holding my feelings inside, anyhow. So, I have no regrets except...I still don't know how to make gravy and biscuits the way she did and would love another lesson---and though I still distinctly remember the feeling of her soft, small hands in mine, I'd loved to feel those little hands again, But most of all...I'd like to tell her "I finally get it!" Tomorrow my Carter--my sweet grandson-- will be a year old (just one day after her birthday); and I finally get how much she must have loved us. Everyday my heart is overwhelmed by his precious little face. I could never have imagined loving someone as much as Tyler and Meleah. They own my heart!! Yet it is so amazing how your heart expands and just loves more and more! So, I get it, Grandma; and it only makes me love you all the more! I can't wait to introduce you to my precious Carter, one sweet day!
“We all possess knowledge.” But knowledge puffs up while love builds up. 2 Those who think they know something do not yet know as they ought to know.
1 Corinthians 8"1-3
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