Glimpses of Excellence – A Hero With a Servant’s Heart

In January of this year, I was sound asleep at home one night when I received word that my precious Mother had broken her leg and was being transported by ambulance to a local hospital. Having just recovered from COVID, I was a little wobbly as I hurriedly threw on some clothes and rushed to my car to make the hour-long drive to Mother. When I got to the emergency room, they had the leg stabilized and her pain controlled….but explained that Mother would need specialty surgery as soon as possible. The doctor said she would be transported to a bigger facility in Little Rock first thing the next morning. Mother and I settled in for the night – grateful (during heavy days of COVID) that we could be together as we waited.

The next morning when the EMT’s came to pick Mother up for transport, I told them I would be following all the way. I wasn’t exactly certain where we were going – so I knew I wanted to keep that ambulance in my sight on the drive….and I wanted Mother to know I would be close at hand. I planned on diligently following right behind. They loaded Mother into the ambulance, and I told her I would see her in Little Rock and that I would be praying the trip went well.

It’s funny how sometimes, even as an adult, we can feel so small, and lonely, and scared – like a little girl wishing desperately for someone to reach out and help us – but knowing we have to go on, to face whatever situation has presented itself, relying on our Lord to see us through.

That’s definitely how I felt as the ambulance carrying my Mother pulled out onto highway 62 just after 9:00 that Wednesday morning with me following. Less than one mile into the trip, the “low tire” warning light came on – indicating that my right rear tire was low. This immediately added stress to an already difficult morning – because I (of course) didn’t have time to stop and find someone to help me with the tire – I wanted to stay with that ambulance…..but I also knew I didn’t need to drive on a tire going flat! I didn’t know what to do or who to call, so I pondered it over and said a quick prayer….

As our tiny convoy headed through Alpena, Arkansas, I called Ozark Auto Body in Harrison about 15 minutes away. I quickly explained the situation and how I didn’t want to lose the ambulance, asking if they possibly had a pump to air up my tires. They assured me they would “be ready and watching for me”. I felt immediate relief, because I know the team of folks at Ozark Auto Body. They’re top notch – always incredibly busy (because they’re good!) and always providing reliable, honest service for their customers.

I was still concerned, however….. You see, Ozark Auto Body is located on the OLD highway that travels through downtown Harrison. The ambulance, I knew, would turn left and take the more direct route on the bypass – and I didn’t want to lose them. I had no choice of course – so I sped up a bit and passed the ambulance, trying to gain a little ground. I had gotten just a little bit ahead when I came to the intersection of Highway 65 and old Business 65. I stayed straight onto the old highway and in less than a minute I had my blinker on to turn right into Ozark Auto Body’s crowded lot.

Let me stop here a minute to say that I have never seen Ozark Auto Body on a weekday when it wasn’t busy – and this day was no exception. In fact, it’s often difficult to even find a parking place. On this morning however, as I flipped on my turn signal (before I had even turned off the highway), I saw Donnie running out of the building with an air tank in his hand….waving me to a place easy to pull in and easy to get back out on the road. Busy as they were, they truly had been watching for me. I had barely stopped when he started airing up that back right tire. While he was working with it, someone else was checking my other tires – and literally in just a few moments all four tires were aired up and safely ready to go – they quickly waved me on as I tried to thank them. I hurriedly pulled back onto the road and was on my way. It felt like a pit stop at Daytona – quick, efficient, and incredibly impressive.

I headed on, turned left to cut back over to the bypass, and pulled out literally right behind the ambulance as if it had all been perfectly planned. Isn’t God good?

I will forever be grateful to Donnie and the entire team at Ozark Auto Body. They have helped me out many times through the years, but none will ever stand out as much as that day. I teared up when I saw him waving me in that morning – pausing his very busy work day to have the air tank ready to go, to watch for me to arrive, and be ready to provide help. That lost little girl feeling went away as I was reminded that there are kind, wonderful people willing to give freely of their time just to help others.

That is an everyday hero – a true example of a glimpse of excellence.

Maplewood

As so many people traverse the countrysides this month searching excitedly for the brilliant colors of autumn, it joyfully reminds each of us that hope, joy, and wonder still abound….that despite all of the stresses and demands of daily life – we continue to reach out, to look for the beauty and blessings surrounding us every day, to celebrate the joys and wonder of our world. These blessings are ours to be enjoyed freely.  We must only seek them out and celebrate them!  

If you live in Arkansas or southwest Missouri, making the drive to Maplewood Cemetery in Harrison, Arkansas is time well spent each autumn. A well-known Arkansas treasure, the quiet, always beautiful cemetery is crowded and busy during the fall as people from miles around visit to see the beautiful foliage. The colors are beautiful right now, so if you haven’t visited before, this is a good time to head to Harrison. The images here were taken at Maplewood this week.  If you can’t visit, please “walk” through the beauty here by viewing these photos.  I so very much hope you enjoy them!

If you would like to learn more about Maplewood Cemetery, click here to read an interesting online article by Deb Peterson about the history of this incredibly beautiful place!  I was delighted to find out that the beauty of Maplewood was due to the efforts of dedicated ladies in the 1920’s with foresight and vision we all benefit from today.  What a lovely gift to all of us! What a lovely legacy!

Maplewood Cemetery
Maplewood Cemetery
Maplewood Cemetery
Maplewood Cemetery
Maplewood Cemetery
Maplewood Cemetery
Maplewood Cemetery
Maplewood Cemetery
Maplewood Cemetery
Maplewood Cemetery
Maplewood Cemetery

The Blessings of a Godly Mother

I’ve heard the story of my birth for as long as I can remember…not that it was all that remarkable or out of the ordinary…it was just that my Mother liked telling the story and I loved hearing it. I was expected to make my appearance toward the end of April, 1967. On the afternoon of Friday March 31st, Mother drove to town for a checkup at the doctor’s office, a hair appointment at the beauty shop, and a few other errands. However, when Dr. Magie examined her, he said she needed to head on over to the hospital immediately because she was about to have her baby. Mother laughed, thinking he was joking. After all, I wasn’t expected for 3 more weeks – she had felt no labor pains – he was scheduled to go out of town for a short hunting trip (planned so he could be back for my birth), and she was headed to the beauty shop! She truly believed he was kidding with her. In fact, she told him she had a hair appointment and asked if it would be all right if she got her hair fixed and then head to the hospital. He assured her she needed to go straight there – so she called Daddy and Mam-ma to come join her, then settled in nervously and excitedly to wait. Dr. Magie was right – I was born just after 4:00 am the next morning, an April Fool’s baby who fooled her family by arriving a few weeks early.

As a little girl, I always smiled a big smile when Mother told me this story. I loved thinking I had played a clever trick on my family with my surprise arrival.

The hospital where I was born closed shortly after my birth when a new hospital was built across town. The beautiful old building sat up on a hill empty and abandoned for years. One day when I was around 8 years old, Mother drove me up that hill and around to the back of the deserted building. She said she wanted to show me something. We got out of the car and had walked only a few steps when Mother pointed up to the unique round balcony on the 3rd floor. “I walked out on that balcony the night before you were born and stood for the longest time praying over your life”, Mother said. “I just wanted you to know that – that I prayed earnestly for you before you were even here.”

Photo credit: Betty Patterson (Thank you, Betty.)

Even as a child, I was humbled by what she said – it seemed like such an important thing to me that day….and it still does. Every time I remember her words, I feel so honored, so blessed by her gift.

I just did the math – I have been on this earth a total of 20,290 days since my April 1 birth all those years ago – and I feel absolutely and 100% completely confident that my Mother has prayed for me on every single one of those days. What an amazing blessing!!!

So, my precious mother prayed for me before I was born and every day since then. I have never lived one single day on this earth without being covered by her prayers. Not one single day. What a difference, what an impact this has had on my life.

It made me thoughtful recently, thinking how I would miss those prayers someday when she is no longer with me…..

…but several weeks ago, Mother was talking to me and thanking me for helping her with some things. “I pray about your future”, she said, “and I’ve prayed that when you get older and perhaps need help, that there will be someone there to help you like you’ve helped me.”

She has prayed for my future! Those thousands of prayers have included specific, thoughtful petitions regarding challenges we all face in this life.

I firmly believe our wonderful, loving Heavenly Father hears our prayers – and I am so grateful that He does. I also couldn’t be more humbled or thankful for the prayers of a Godly mother, devotedly approaching the King of Kings on my behalf.

Thank you, Mother. I love you so very much. I am forever grateful.

The Incredible Privilege

I am continually amazed and grateful for the privilege of a relationship with our Savior, Jesus Christ.

Reading in the Old Testament reminds me that, in order to receive forgiveness or make requests to God, people had to gather sacrifices, bring those sacrifices to the priests and then present their sins, their requests, etc. to God through that priest…..It was quite an effort and had to be done routinely.

BUT, because of Jesus’ loving sacrifice, we don’t have to do all of that! WE CAN SPEAK TO GOD DIRECTLY, ANY TIME WE WANT – AND HE HEARS US! We can ask for forgiveness for mistakes we have made, we can make our requests, we can ask Him questions, we can even talk to Him about our day. Think about that!!! Wow!!!

Often when I’m busy, I am tempted to neglect my prayer life….then I remember the unbelievable, overwhelmingly incredible privilege it is to pray…..and it helps me remember what a priority prayer is…

We are blessed to have the opportunity of relationship with Christ.

Glimpses of Excellence – A Beautiful Bloom

Hospitals are unique places – in both positive and negative ways.  I’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals the past couple of years due to an ongoing family medical situation and those experiences have given me so many Glimpses of Excellence to share…. Here’s one of them..

One afternoon recently, I stepped into a hospital elevator and smiled at the young woman inside.  She seemed quiet, pleasant, and….tired.  I saw on her badge that she worked for the hospital food service, pushing a loaded warmer cart to deliver meals to hundreds of patients – then returning afterwards to their rooms to pick up all the empty trays and dishes.  I thought about how tired she must be at the end of her work day and wondered how many steps registered routinely on her FitBit.

“You have a hard job”, I commented.   “Oh no, I have an easy job.” she said quickly, smiling sweetly….then her smile slowly faded and she became visibly thoughtful.  “Well, actually sometimes it’s really hard going into some of those rooms”, she said quietly.  

I pondered her words for the rest of the day….realizing how very hard that could be…..  Her quiet comment made me thoughtful. I’m often a tiny bit nervous walking into a room where strangers are present.  I might even pause, collect myself, and take a breath before opening the door. This young lady not only has to brace herself to walk into a room full of strangers over and over every day….   She faces much greater difficulties – because she is walking into rooms where people are very sick,  perhaps dying, some all alone with no family or friends…. It would be a difficult thing to face….but she does it over and over every single day.

It also made me think about Irene.  Irene and her sister Miss. B clean rooms on the hospital wing where my mother was a patient for many weeks this year.  Irene is a rare gem, a bright glimpse of excellence, who faithfully does her job day after day, facing the same challenges as the young lady I met in the elevator. She is a tiny little thing with a bright smile and a big voice. She does her job well, cleaning with diligence and dedication – noticing details and always doing her best. She doesn’t just mop the floor – she scrubs it clean. That hospital room always felt so much better when she was finished – cleaner, brighter, and even more hopeful and cheerful.

That, in itself, is a wonderful example of excellence – but Irene always does so much more. First of all, she diligently makes it a point to learn the patient’s names, as well as family members who stay with them.  That’s no small task!  She learned not only my Mother’s name, but mine, our friends, and our family members who visited as well! Irene greeted us with sincere warmth each time she saw us. Every single day when she entered Mother’s hospital room, she would enthusiastically exclaim,  “Hello, Mrs. Jean!  How are you today?” with her beautiful accent and a broad smile on her face.  She would greet me as well (by name!) and would remember details of past conversations, following up on discussions, sharing her own life, and showing  genuine interest in and concern for both of us. We looked forward to her visits every day.

 There is an old saying I love that says to “bloom where you are planted”. Irene is definitely blooming – and like all beautiful flowers she is brightening the lives of many, providing beauty, encouragement, strength, and joy.

We should all try to do the same.

Thank you, Irene.  I am very grateful for the care you showed and the encouragement you provided.  I will never forget you.

Rainy Days are Magical…

Rainy days are magical….

…gently and persistently beckoning us to set aside daily responsibilities for just a few minutes…

…to abandon any and all concerns about hair or makeup or proper, grown up behavior…

….to take the time to change into worn out Skechers, pull on a soft, comfortable jacket, and go for a quiet, wandering walk…

….to feel the rain splash on our faces, wade through the puddles, squish through the mud, breath in the freshly cleaned air…

…to unashamedly celebrate our inner child….

….to slow down and enjoy the world around us

…remembering that each day is a gift filled with many, many blessings…

…sincerely thanking our Creator for the extraordinary opportunities of life.

Snow Fell This Morning

Snow fell this morning…

…a beautiful blessing from above – settling over the ground like a soft coverlet…

…illuminating the earth…

…quieting the world…

…leaving us with no choice but to slow down…

…providing us the opportunity to reexamine our priorities and adjust our focus…

Snow fell this morning…

…gently reminding us…

…to celebrate God’s beauty…

…to appreciate the blessings…

…to snuggle up – not only treasuring those we love, but also taking time to nurture ourselves….

Snow fell this morning…

…an unexpected respite, calming our crowded, busy lives.

snowy lake

Happy Birthday, Mel Tillis

“Good morning, this is Judy Tillis from Branson. Would you happen to know where I could get in touch with Lisa Carlon?”

Mother replied, “Why yes I do – she’s my daughter, and she’s actually here right now.”

At the time of that phone call, I was a student at College of the Ozarks in Point Lookout, Missouri – just outside of Branson. I took the phone from Mother and listened as Judy asked me if I would be willing to move out of my college dorm and live with she and her husband to help them take care of their precious little girl, Hannah. Four days later, I moved into their home. Hannah was four at the time – a sweet, beautiful, intelligent child who was and still is absolutely a delight. It was one of the best jobs I have ever had.

Today, I am thinking of so many wonderful memories from those years – because today is the 88th anniversary of Hannah’s daddy, Mel Tillis’, birth. I smiled this morning as I sat remembering…and I decided to share some of the stories with all of you in hopes that they would make you smile as well. However, before we begin, I have to put in a little disclaimer. Mel had a gift for making people smile. He was an incredible entertainer – singer, songwriter, musician, and storyteller. He was a true, gifted artist – telling his stories with wonderful voice inflections, great facial expressions, and hilarious body language – and always managing his stutter to get others to laugh. An avid reader and a writer, he used the English language brilliantly – twisting pronunciations to add comic effect. When I write these stories, I am blessed that I can HEAR his words and SEE his facial expressions as I type….but those things are unfortunately so difficult to express in written words. For those of you who knew and loved Mel Tillis – I hope you can “hear” him in your mind as well while you read ahead…. For those of you who didn’t know Mel, he was known as the “Stutterin’ Boy” because he couldn’t speak without a stutter. His was not a stutter of repeated letters, but of pauses. At times, I know it was so frustrating for him – but he managed it beautifully and worked it into a trademark his audiences came to love. When I’ve included “……..” in the stories below, please know I’m indicating a Mel Tillis pause. I hope you can hear him.

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During the 1990’s, someone in town decided to sell maps to the Branson music stars’ homes. As a result, the house we lived in at the end of a quiet neighborhood street became a bit busier with people driving down to see Mel Tillis’ home. Hannah and I were walking back from the park down the street one afternoon when a car passed us obviously following the celebrity map. When we got home, Mel had just finished working with his tomato plants and was getting on the mower to tackle the lawn. He was wearing blue jeans, a long sleeved shirt, ball cap, and sunglasses. The older couple had pulled their car into the driveway and as Hannah and I walked up, the little lady got out of the car and asked politely,

“Excuse me, but is this where Mel Tillis lives?”

“Yes, ma’am, it is”, I replied.

“Would it be all right if we took a quick picture? We will stay here on the driveway and won’t get on the grass”, she said.

“Sure, that will be fine.” I told her, so she headed back to the car to get her husband. As Hannah and I walked on I heard the lady say,

“George, she said it would be all right. You can get out and take the picture – but wait a minute until that gardner goes around to the back so that he won’t be in the picture.”

Hannah looked up at me with big eyes, and I grinned back down at her. The woman had no idea that the “gardener” was Mel himself. George stood waiting patiently to take his picture.

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Mel was a great cook and a great baker. Judy was a good cook also – but it was typically Mel who cooked our suppertime meal. He did two shows a day (2:00 and 8:00) five days a week and would come home in between to cook and eat supper, then get a quick rest before heading back. One day, the 2:00 matinee performance was running long and while he was performing he was thinking about the chicken he had planned to fry for supper. Stepping off stage while the Statesiders band played, he called me hurriedly and told me to go ahead and cut up the chicken in the refrigerator so it would be ready for him to fry when he got home – then he hung up quickly to walk back on stage. I got that fryer out of the refrigerator and stared at it. You see – I had never cut up a chicken in my life. I always bought mine in pieces! I took it out of the package and stared at it some more – then I did what any self-respecting girl would do…..I called my Mother for help. She wasn’t home – and I was getting desperate. The internet wasn’t available to search back in those days – and I didn’t know who to ask or what to do. One of Mel’s older daughters was visiting – home from college for the weekend – and she was asleep downstairs. I went down and woke her up – and together we went to work on that chicken – neither one of us knowing what we were doing. When Mel got home, we had hacked that poor bird into all kinds of pieces – none of them really recognizable. To his credit, he didn’t get upset. He just looked at the pitiful pieces and quietly started breading and frying them. When we sat down at the table to eat, he said, “You all might want to…..cover these with gravy ‘cause I had no idea…….what was what……after you two got through…….wrangling this poor thing!” That was the last time he asked me to do that! Epic fail – but now a fun memory.

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Mel was a constant student throughout his life. He loved to read, and he loved to learn – with a mind always creative and curious. I had flown in an airplane a total of one time before I worked for the Tillis’ – so I was still a pretty nervous flyer when Hannah and I started traveling back and forth from the little airport at Point Lookout, MO to the little airport in Gallatin, TN. When Mel was on the flights, however, he was a bundle of enthusiasm and curiosity. He most liked to ride up in the cockpit with Skip, the pilot….but when he was in the cabin he would sit looking out the window spotting planes. “Look, Lisa – there’s one right up there above us now” he would say. “Oop – there’s another – it’s a little one flying under us!” At first, it frightened me to see all the planes in the air around us. I had no idea they were even there until he pointed them out! Over time, I began to be interested, though – and now I think of him every time I fly – and it makes me smile.

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Eighteen years ago this month, I took some friends to see Mel’s show here in Branson. I hadn’t worked for the Tillis’ in several years at that point, and I didn’t get to see them as often as I would have liked. It was Mel’s very kind tradition to always do an autograph line after the show to meet and thank the people who came to see him. That autograph line could take a long time, and my group was in a hurry that night to leave and get something to eat, so I decided not to interrupt the line to say hello. (I always felt badly to leave without saying hi – but I also always felt presumptuous to walk up and interrupt the line. I didn’t want to be a bother – but I didn’t want to be rude either! It was always a hard decision for me.) As we were exiting the theater I heard a familiar voice call, “Heyyyyy, Lisa!” I smiled and walked over to give Mel a hug and say hello. His eyes were lit up, and he had a big mischievous smile on his face.

“Did you know I just had a birthday?” he said.

“I did! Happy birthday!”, I replied.

“I’m goin’ on 80, can you believe it?” he stated.

I saw people in the autograph line turning and talking – saying they didn’t realize he was almost 80 years old.

“Mel, you aren’t going on 80!!! You’re only 70!” I said shaking my head.

He grinned, looked me straight in the eye and said, “I know…but that’s…going on eighty!!!”

Makes me chuckle even to this day.

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I learned a lot from Mel – and I am grateful to him for everything he taught me. He believed strongly in honoring the flag. I had a t-shirt once with the American flag printed beautifully across the front. He looked at it sharply and said, “You know you’re not supposed to do that, don’t you?” When I asked what he meant, he referred to the flag code and told me that the American flag should never be used as wearing apparel. I’ve never worn a flag in that way since.

He also modeled for me that you should always do your best no matter what. When he decided to put together a cookbook to sell in the theater gift shop, he didn’t farm it out to people in his office – he went to work on it himself. He wanted the recipes to be really good – and to truly reflect his personal favorites. Let’s be honest – the cookbook was probably going to sell pretty well no matter what was in it – because it was “Mel’s Cookbook” – but he wanted to be sure to give people good recipes to try and good stories to go with them. He worked hard to get everything right – and my copy of the cookbook is one I treasure to this day.

When Mel decided to record a gospel album, part of the work was deciding which songs to include. As usual, Mel wanted to get it right – to do a good job. One day at the house he asked me if my Mother had any old Southern gospel albums. I told him she had tons of them – and he asked if he could borrow them. Judy had to buy him a record player to play the albums. During his free time for several days, he sat on the floor playing those old long play records and writing down notes and lyrics from his favorites on a yellow legal pad. He had trouble getting the lyrics to one old hymn he had selected, so he asked me if Mother might have that song in a songbook. She looked through her many songbooks and couldn’t find it – so she called friends around town and finally located it in a hymnal our friends the High family had. Months later when the album was complete, Mel would sing a gospel song during his shows and then give one of the new CD’s away to someone in the audience. One day, Mother and Daddy came to the show and I was sitting in the audience with them. Before Mel sang his gospel song, he asked Mother to stand and told the crowd how she had lended him her records and helped him find the songs for his album. Thanking her publicly, he gave her the free CD. I’ve always been grateful to him for giving her that moment of recognition.

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Happy birthday, Mel.

It’s hard to believe you’ve been gone almost three years.

Thank you for the music, the smiles and the laughs you brought to so many, the stories, the lessons and the memories..

I am grateful to have known you.