28 YEARS

Yes, for all of you faithful blog readers, you might know that June 21 is the "birthday" of this blog.  You will also remember that June 21 marks the anniversary of The Girl's diabetes diagnosis which was the first post in this blog.

Today marks 28 years since that diagnosis.  I usually write something to commemorate but The Girl just directed me to her Facebook page where she had written about it herself.  After a tear or two, I got myself together and asked her if I could post her comments to my post for this day.  She says it so well.  She agreed so if you a blog reader who has already read her Facebook page, you can read again or stop reading here.  If you haven't read it, grab a tissue, settle back, and read on.


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In The Girl's words:

***THE REAL STEEL BEHIND THE MAGNOLIA***

This post has been spinning around in my head ever since I started reading all the hubbub about this year being the 30th Anniversary of Steel Magnolias. Every good, well-bred Southern Belle knows this movie, and I daresay many of you are among those that love it. I myself love a good rom-com and am not one to turn down the likes of Dolly Parton, Sally Field, and Julia Roberts. 

But.

I first saw Steel Magnolias in high school. Or, perhaps I should say I first and last saw it in high school. I remember sitting in the basement with a group of girlfriends and felt like running for cover. If I’d wanted to rent it from the local Blockbuster, I probably would have gone straight to the “Horror Films” aisle and looked somewhere between Nightmare on Elm Street and Scream (which may not have been out yet. I’m knocking on the door of 40, folks 😆). You see, I looked at Julia Roberts’ character, Shelby, and saw myself. Julia was from Georgia. I’m from Georgia. Julia/Shelby had blush and bashful (right?) bridesmaids’ dresses at her wedding. I had visions of the same (but ended up choosing hot pink. You’re welcome, friends 😊). Julia/Shelby was a honorary Phi Mu. I pledged the same sorority in college. But, most of all, Julia/Shelby had Type I diabetes. I was diagnosed with Type I when I was 10 years old. 28 years ago today, as a matter of fact. Too. Many. Similarities. So, when Julia/Shelby passed away from kidney failure when her child was very, very young… you can imagine the fear that ran through my teenage mind. I saw all of my hopes and dreams for the future being drowned right there in the tears of Dolly and Sally. 

So.

The years passed, and I kept on going. The dream of family and children didn’t end, but neither did the fear of “what if it can’t happen” or “what if I don’t survive it?” Pretty heavy stuff for a girl whose next thought is “which pair of sweatpants am I going to wear to class today?” I can recall a specific night before my sophomore or junior year of college where I was really having it out with the Lord. I knew that the care of my diabetes was less than stellar but I begged Him to bless me with a child. And, even more than that, to save that child when he or she was old enough. Then, having felt like He had given me that promise, I promised Him that, should it happen to be a girl child, I’d name her Grace. 

More years passed.

When I was 29, I met a guy on eHarmony who I thought was pretty great. Thankfully, he thought I was pretty great, too, and we decided to get married. A few years later, we found out that we were expecting a baby. Hallelujah! I was equal parts thrilled and terrified. But I prayed for a healthy baby and a healthy Mama and did the best I could with the help of my family and the world’s best endocrinologist. About halfway through my pregnancy at a regular checkup, the nurse told me that the protein count from my kidneys was high. A red flag, but not a major cause of concern. However, I can just remember getting to the truck and falling apart on my husband’s shoulder. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want my baby to die. But Shelby/Julia did. Because of her kidneys. So, somehow, that fear from years before resurfaced right there at the forefront of my mind. I continued to repeat that same test every month. And those numbers went down. Every. Single. Time. You can’t tell me that God doesn’t answer prayer in His way and in His time!

So then, at 38 weeks and 1 day, my precious baby girl was born. 7 pounds and 1 ounce of pure joy. With a working pancreas, no less! Caroline GRACE… a daily, tangible, and precious reminder of God’s amazing grace in my life. The answer to a prayer and the fulfillment of a promise made so many years before. I’m still believing that the other part of that promise will be kept when she gets older and God knocks at her little heart.

Now, I know that there are so many situations in the world, many harder and scarier than mine. But this is what I have. This is my story, He is my song, and some days, I can’t help but praise Him. He is bigger and mightier than my fear… and there are still days that I have fear. I don’t know what the future holds, but I know He overcame this obstacle in His way and His time, and I have to trust Him to do the same with whatever my family and I face. He is truly the Steel behind this little magnolia 🙂. It’s not always easy, but He’s always the answer. And… if you are reading this and facing a giant of your own, He will do the same for you. Just ask.

“…from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace” John 1:16

“And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me…for when I am weak, then am I strong.” 2 Corinthians 12: 9-10

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All I can say is quite a girl is mine and quite a Heavenly Father who cares for us all.  Enough said.

Consider.........

VBS 2019

VBS week at our church has now passed.  What a week it was!  It was a week that focused on the true meaning of our Christian faith--JESUS!  Grace and faith abounded as souls were saved.  It seemed to be a week where adults all the way down to children were revitalized.  Was I tired?  Yes but as my body tired, my faith and praise grew and grew stronger throughout the week.

I was the official photographer.  I have done that job often but not in the past few years.  I had forgotten how hard it can be even though I do love taking pictures.  I decided "the old gray mare, she ain't what she used to be".

The Grandbaby enjoyed her third VBS immensely.  I know you will enjoy a few pictures from the week.  I didn't want to disappoint my three faithful blog readers.  😁

The theme was Mega Sports Camp....

and ended each opening service with a cheer for J-E-S-U-S!

Food was delicious as usual and involved a lot of hard work all week from the food committee.

A good friend was a visiting adult class teacher one night.  What a blessing he is to my family!  I tell him he can speak at my funeral some day.  I needed a younger guy as a choice.  We laugh about it but I am serious.

The Grandbaby had a great time!

She did love that green frisbee.

The Poppa and The Neema really enjoy being a Poppa and a Neema.  Just sayin'....And after this particular photo moment, The Poppa and The Neema both had trouble getting up from a kneeling position.  Ahhh.....

A funny happening during the week was when the teachers of The Grandbaby's class asked me to take individual pictures of the kids for a project.  I had taken pictures of all the kids, actually having to be inventive to get them still enough for a somewhat decent shot, and then it was The Grandbaby's turn.  Now usually she is exactly like these other kids and it takes several shots to get a good one.  Did it that night?  Nah.  She just walks right up with her Bible, stands still in the spot, and smiles.  It brought a lot of laughter from the teachers as they said she surely must do this a lot and is trained.  Nah.  I just got lucky.  Look at this nice picture....

I am always reminded during VBS week of my favorite VBS ever that I attended as a youngster.  It was a neighborhood church during the morning time.  Seemingly, all the middle school age kids in my class were kids that rode my school bus and went to school with me.  Yes, my age will show as there was only one school in my area at that time and only two or three bus routes.  Anyways, I remember that VBS and the fact that I learned the books of the Bible.  There was a lot of teaching of Jesus by then younger teachers as the ones at my church did this year.  Now a lot of those teachers have gone on to be with the Lord.  Sometimes if I close my eyes and think of that time, I can feel myself out by the concrete table in that church yard talking to those kids I knew and I can taste those store bought cookies and that red punch.  More so, I can feel the love that was there.  That's what VBS is all about....when it has Jesus, you feel it.  I'm so thankful for that and pray those kind of memories for The Grandbaby,  And I pray she learns the books of the Bible.  In order.

VBS 2019 has joined the bank of memories but what memories they are.  Life changing for some.  A reminder that God still answers prayer for others and so much more.

Consider.....

COLORS IN THE CLASSROOM

Is it just me or is this normal day-to-day thing we call life just like a classroom?  It seems to find so many different ways to teach me about many subjects.  Learning can be a wonderful thing--but only if I choose to learn.

One of my sayings that I say on a really regular basis is "It is what it is."  Well ain't that the truth?  Sometimes there's only black or white and no gray, then other times there is a whole crayon box full of different colors.

Let's take a look at yellow for instance.  I told The Grandbaby that yellow is my favorite color.  At least it is for now.  There's all those tones of yellow--the golds, the buttercreams, the pale.  Yellow to me is a very happy color.  It reminds me of sunny days--days when learning is a recognition of the joys that abound in my life.  It doesn't take a whole lot of effort to find those joys and learn from them.

Green is a bit like yellow for me, too.  Have you ever seen any prettier color than the green grass after a rain?  It's as if the world has a new vitalization.  Green signals growth to me, not only the growth of the plants and trees but growth of my inner spirit.  After a rain storm in my life, the green sprouts again and helps me to grow in grace, in faith, and in the Lord.

With that said, that brings me to blue.  Well The Grandbaby will tell you without hesitation that blue is her favorite color.  It's the color of PJ Mask's Catboy, her favorite cartoon character.  She has loved the color blue for a long long time.  When I think of blue, though, I think of times that caused tears in my eyes and in this classroom of life.  Tears for losses of loved ones, tears for regrets I can't redo, tears for things I couldn't understand the "why" of, and tears for my own anxiety and fear.  As I ponder the color blue, I realize too that the sky when there are no clouds is also blue.   This leads me to think of blue in two ways--sorrow AND happiness.  I am reminded the most of all the answers and resolutions that came from the tears I shed for various reasons.  You know, it's that Pollyanna thing--you can always find something to be glad about.  Even when you are in the depths of raining despair, one knows that eventually the sun WILL shine again.  And that to me is faith.

Orange, of course, brings to mind family and the favorite color of The Son-In-Law.  His beloved college has orange as one of it's colors.  War Eagle!   That reminds me somehow of answered prayers from way way back.  Prayers for a mate--a right mate--for The Girl, prayers for a family for her, and prayers for her health.  All these have been answered prayers in just the right way because my God knows the right things for us all.   Often those right things are so very unexpected.

Red makes me think of roses and the opportunities we have to stop and smell the flowers.  I get so caught up some days with my anxieties and busyness in the life classroom that I forget the learning.  I got some test results the other day from my doctor.  She has known me many many years and the two of us had a huge long talk about my stress level and how it has to decline for my own physical good.  I told her that my high stress level should come as no surprise to me or to her as we both know me well.  I took away from that lecture that it's important not to sweat the small stuff....and it's all small stuff.  That is said often, I guess, but true.  So I try.  Red can remind me of that.  You know, red also reminds me of the blood Jesus shed on the cross.  For me.  And for you.

There are many colors in the crayon box that man's experimentation has developed and they are beautiful colors in their own right but I will say that one of the least used crayons in the box is the white.  Some folks would rather just leave the coloring page it's original color and not go to the effort of coloring a color that won't show up.  I see white as such a clean, clean look that we should all learn that it is one of the most important.  How nasty looking is a piece of clothing that is stained with all sorts of dirty junk?  How beautiful is that same piece of clothing after it's washed and brought back to it's original whiteness?  White to me signifies everything that is right in the world.  It signifies to me most of all how a heart becomes clean after the washing of Jesus blood.  How, you say?  John 3:16.  It's hard to understand but it is so true....or at least I've learned in my classroom that it's true and I will continue to hold fast to that knowledge.

Put a lot of colors together and you get a rainbow.  A beautiful array of colors come together after the storm  and makes a scene that always makes one smile.  Rainbows have a special place in my family.

I guess this post turned out to be not what I expected when I started typing but maybe it's just what it should be.

Consider.............