Tag: impact

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The Privilege of Prayer

Southern Sideboards cover

I said a little prayer for Mrs. Hunter Gates and her family this week. I guess that’s a little strange because I’ve never met Mrs. Gates, never spoken with her, and in truth I know almost nothing about her. In fact, I am not even certain that she is still living…

Okay, let me back up a bit…

I really enjoy cooking, and I like trying new recipes. It’s popular today to find recipes through internet searches – and I know that can provide a real convenience … .but for me, I much prefer tried and true recipes when I can….recipes that are shared from people – family, friends, or even strangers. Recipes that are handed down through generations – that have traveled with families as they moved about, that have been saved carefully because they are important. The connections these recipes provide make preparing and enjoying meals all the more significant and special. For example – baking a Mexican Chicken casserole using my Mam-ma’s recipe adds a whole new dimension to the cooking experience….connecting me to her, to all the times she baked and served and enjoyed that same casserole to dear family and friends…connecting me to wonderful, loving memories. I can close my eyes and be transported in my mind to her kitchen – smelling the wonderful smells and feeling the love that she shared.

Mexican Chicken Casserole

Preparing my “Creamy Tacos” recipe given to me by my mentor teacher, Marti Hancock, early in my teaching career connects me to her…..and to my teaching team at Branson Cedar Ridge….and to all the wonderful memories of my students during those years when I was learning the craft of my profession.

Creamy tacos

When I make baked eggs for breakfast, a unique and delicious recipe from my cousin Nicki Jean, I am reminded of all the Beeson quail breakfasts on Christmas mornings in Hattieville through the years – the first place I ever tried baked eggs…and it makes me smile and be thankful for those wonderful times.

baked eggs

When I travel, I often search for a local cookbook to bring home as a memento of the place I have visited. Each region of the country has such unique food preferences, cooking styles, and culture. I especially like church cookbooks or junior league cookbooks….because the recipes in these are carefully selected by folks who have taken great pride in preparing unique and delicious dishes for family and friends. The recipes they have chosen to be printed are some that they consider their best….and they are sharing them to bring joy to others.

When I visited Biloxi and Jackson, Mississippi many years ago (2008) for a t-ball tournament my nephew played in, I purchased a cookbook called “Southern Sideboards” which was organized and sold by the Junior League of Jackson, Mississippi. On page one, it states that it features “tested recipes”….and boy, they weren’t kidding. First published in 1978, the cookbook was in its 17th printing and was listed as a “Southern Living Hall of Fame” winner when I purchased it. Of all my cookbooks, it has become one of my very favorites through the years, because it’s so reliable! Every recipe I have prepared from this book has been so good.

Southern Sideboards Cookbook

This week, I tried a new one – “Wild Rice Quiche” by Mrs. Hunter Gates. I was looking for a new quiche recipe – and this one caught my eye because it was so unique…..and because I love wild rice. It was very easy to prepare, and it turned out to be delicious. I will make it again! (That’s the mark of a good recipe for me – will I make it again? If the answer is yes, that means it’s a winner!)

Okay….forgive me….back to the beginning. Whenever my sweet Mother prepared a recipe given to her by a friend or family member, she tried to always say a simple prayer for that person….and she taught me to do the same.

A great cook herself – Mother would often be asked for her recipes – and she would gladly share them. Many years ago, she began including a handwritten note at the end of each one.

“Please say a prayer for me when you make this recipe.”

It was a simple request – but such a very powerful one. Can I be honest? When I was younger, I was a little embarrassed when Mother started writing the little phrase on her recipe cards. I worried (too much!) about what people would think of it….thinking perhaps they would think it silly or inappropriate…

I’ve grown up – and I do not feel embarrassed of it anymore. Instead, I am very proud – and very grateful for her example and the lessons she taught me!

Please say a prayer for me...

In today’s world, social communication platforms, busy schedules, changing social norms, and even the media seem (in my opinion) sometimes bent on dividing us – on breaking down connections and in some ways even encouraging isolation.

Isn’t it much better when we enjoy, support, respect, and care about one another? More importantly, isn’t it a powerful and wonderful privilege and responsibility to pray for one another?

Many of us say a blessing over our meals, we pray for family and friends….and a lot of us say a prayer for strangers when we see an ambulance or emergency vehicle pass by. How fitting that we can also say a quick prayer for others when a trigger brings them to our mind….a trigger such as a recipe they have shared with us. I think it is actually a pretty great idea!

James 5:16

“Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working”

Ephesians 6:18

18 And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.

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What Kind of Ripples Are We Making?

I was raised to be kind to others….not just to “be nice” when someone talked to me….but to care….to watch others in order to see when someone needed a kind word, or assistance, or encouragement. My parents showed me by example that we should help other people out whenever we can….and I saw each of them do this over and over and over again throughout my life…. They provided me with such valuable lessons, and I am forever grateful.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

I don’t drive down highway 76 through Branson West, Missouri all that often….maybe a dozen times a year or so…..but every time I do I am cheered and encouraged when I drive past this Taco Bell.

In fact, believe it or not, I usually smile inwardly and actually feel comforted when I see it.

I know this sounds strange. It has nothing to do with Mexican Pizzas, or burritos, or nachos…. Let me explain…

When my Daddy’s Parkinson disease required him to enter a long-term care facility in Kimberling City at a much-too-young age, for several years (until he passed away) my Mother drove the 50-mile round trip to see him every day. (Every single day!) Daddy’s mind was as sharp as always, and his body was very strong – but his balance and coordination suffered greatly. After several incredibly hard, dangerous falls (with no broken bones ever, thank God!), it was time for some much-needed help.

We were very blessed that he was placed in a private room – and he and Mother would spend the days there together.

Each week, for a change of pace, they would load up in Mother’s van and go riding around for a while or go out to get a bite to eat. One of the places they loved going regularly – was the Taco Bell in Branson West. Going out wasn’t easy! The staff at the care facility would help Daddy get out of his room and safely into the van – but of course, once they left on these driving excursion adventures – they were on their own….

…but not really. Because there are kind and caring people everywhere – people who have learned to watch others in order to see when someone needs a kind word, or assistance, or encouragement….people who are bold enough to step in and take action to help. (This is still true today!)

When Mother and Daddy started going to the Branson West Taco Bell, she would get out and help him walk in – and they would enjoy their meal out together. It was their “date” day! On days when his balance was pretty good, not a lot of assistance was needed…..but as it got worse it became harder for one person alone to assist him.

Then one afternoon as I was driving home from work, Mother called me – excited to tell me about the day. They had gone to Taco Bell as usual, and the staff who had seen them come in each week went above and beyond. Mother said before she could get the van parked and get out to go around and help Daddy – two of the young Taco Bell employees were at his door, smiling and telling him that they would walk in with him. Daddy walked in safely with an employee on each arm – and my parents enjoyed their meal together.

After that, almost every time they pulled up at Taco Bell, employees hurried out to the parking lot to assist them.

It brought Mother and Daddy such joy. It made them feel cared about. It provided Mother with some caregiver relief. It allowed my very social father to make new friends. It was a wonderful, observant, caring act of compassion.

And now – almost 15 years later – the memory of all of those folks and their active compassion continues to cheer, encourage, and inspire me even today. The ripples of kindness that they showed over a decade ago are still active.

It makes me wonder- to stop and evaluate – what do I do each and every day to help those around me? What do I do to see the needs, to listen, to encourage, to support?

What kind of ripples am I making?

They last a lot longer than we can ever know. I want to be sure I leave good ones behind in my wake.

For a narrated version of this story – click below.

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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.

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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.

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The Seeds We Sow

Anybody out there like fresh peaches? I know I sure do…..but I will never look at them the same way after today…..because I read an article by Cindy Lubbering, a home-town friend I have known for many years. She has written a beautiful, meaningful, and thought-provoking piece paying tribute to her parents….. but also providing a wonderful challenge for each of us…I contacted Cindy this afternoon and asked her if I could post her story, wanting to share with others, and she has graciously agreed. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did. If so, please comment and let her know – or send me a message and I will pass it along.

The Peach Tree

Fresh Peaches

The Seeds We Sow

By Guest Writer Cindy Lubbering

When you first glance at these pictures you might think, ”What’s the big deal? Nothing special about a few peaches and a peach tree.” But to me, the tree and peaches have a far deeper and more profound meaning.

This peach tree grows just over the fence next to my parent’s home. It has grown in the spot where we tossed food scraps for years. Obviously, a peach seed was among those scraps at one time and happened to take root.

Frankly, I didn’t even realize the tree was fruit bearing until Gregg called it to my attention lately. He brought in the sweetest peaches I have ever tasted. Gregg told me that he picked them from my parent’s peach tree.

The tree that they never realized they planted.

Now this peach tree has been slowly growing through the years and finally bore fruit.

The tree got me to thinking about other kinds of seeds my parents unknowingly planted throughout the years.

They planted seeds about Jesus in the many, many three year olds that attended their Sunday school class for the more than forty years that they taught.

They planted seeds in the community, living and working among friends and neighbors who sometimes needed a helping hand.

They planted seeds within our own family by living Christian lives and being examples of always doing what is good and honorable for my sister and I and their grandchildren.

My parents are both gone, but the seeds they planted are still producing fruit just as the peach tree is that grows near their backyard.

Let us all be mindful that the seeds we plant today will one day bear fruit, good or bad.

Galatians 6:7

Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that he will also reap.

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Glimpses of Excellence – at my local Chick-Fil-A

Many years ago, I decided that someday I would write a book and title it “Glimpses of Excellence”…..but I’ll tell you more about that in another blog on another day. I’m getting a little ahead of myself…

Even though I’m off work right now for Christmas break, I’ve stayed quite busy. Despite all the demands of the day, I have been allowing myself the wonderful luxury of sleeping in late….until this morning…

I set my alarm to wake up early today, because I had an early morning appointment about 50 miles from home. I’ll be honest, mornings are definitely not my best time – I’m much more of a night owl – so anytime I have to get up and about early it’s a bit of a challenge for me. (Okay, probably a big challenge!) Still, I made it out the door just a few minutes past the goal I had set for leaving, got settled in the car, and ordered breakfast on my Chick-Fil-A app. (I absolutely love their breakfast bowls!) Thinking it might save time, I chose inside pickup rather than drive-through, clicked the final “submit” on the order, and headed off to meet the day.

There were beautiful clouds in the skies this morning – not fluffy white pillows in a bright blue sky, but slowly rolling dark shadows crowded together against a muted, blue-gray canvas.

cloudy skies

When I arrived at Chick-Fil-A and parked, rain had just started sprinkling down. The parking lot was full, and the restaurant was busy. My mind was also busy – thinking about my goals for the day, planning my schedule, and mentally listing tasks needing completion. As I hopped out of the car to rush in and get my order, the skies opened up and the rain started pelting down. Dashing inside the restaurant, I was greeted warmly by an employee who was standing near the front door. “Do you have an umbrella?” the young man asked. “No, I didn’t bring one with me – didn’t know it was going to rain today!” I replied over my shoulder as I walked over to pick up my waiting order. While I did, he calmly walked into the entryway, unlocked a small closet, and took out an oversized umbrella. As I hurried back toward the front door, he said “I’ll walk you to your car.” Stepping out in the rain, he held the umbrella more over me and my breakfast order than over himself. Smiling as I jumped into the car, I called out a quick but sincere thank-you as he turned and headed back to the restaurant.

You know what? That small act of unexpected kindness made my day! My busy morning was brightened considerably because this young man went the extra mile to show concern for me….because he put out extra unrequested effort to make my day better. What a wonderful glimpse of excellence!

That act of kindness has stayed in my thoughts all day because it was significant to me. It was over and beyond what I would have expected, it was very impressive, and it made a difference. It touched my heart! I wonder what simple opportunities I miss to help others, to show kindness, to make a positive impact? In what ways can I show excellence? I’m going to try to work on that!

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Thank you, Mrs. Swofford

We often do not realize the long-lasting impact we have on others….

Each of us affect those around us – either positively or negatively – every day, many times without even realizing it.

When I was 9 years old, I was a 4th grader at Berryville (Arkansas) elementary school. My teacher that year was Mrs. Mary Ellen Swofford. The year before, when I was a 3rd grader, I had feared Mrs. Swofford, hoping and praying many times that I wouldn’t have her for a teacher. A trim, petite lady, she always wore neatly fitted dresses and matching heels that clicked briskly when she walked down the hall. You always knew when it was Mrs. Swofford coming – even before you saw her – by those clicking heels. She was a no-nonsense teacher, and had high expectations for students’ behavior, attitude, and efforts.

Entering 4th grade, my fears were realized when I saw that in fact I did have Mrs. Swofford as my teacher. Those fears quickly faded away as I got to know her however, and she remains to this day one of my absolute favorite teachers.

In late September, this lovely “changing of seasons” time of year we are in right now, Mrs. Swofford started our day by printing the word autumn on the chalkboard. She wrote slowly and carefully, building our anticipation as we students saw the care and simple artistry she put into every letter. She chose to use the old fashioned style on the letter “a”, a style still utilized in type print today but rarely seen anymore in written form. We had no idea why she was writing the word, but she definitely had our attention. The room was quiet as we waited in anticipation. When she finished, she turned to us and said, “Isn’t this a pretty word? I’ve always thought it was such a pretty word to see in print – and I think that fits so well because autumn is such a pretty time of year. Some people call it “fall”, but I’ve always preferred to use autumn because of the way the word looks when you write it and sounds when you say it. It’s just so much better, don’t you think?”

autumn

That was it. That’s all she said. We moved on – getting out our paper and pencils and beginning our school work for the day. Mrs Swofford left that carefully written word on the board for the remainder of the week, and I would look up at it throughout the day and my 9-year-old mind would think, “Wow – that really is a pretty word!”

It was a simple act – but it taught me several valuable lessons.

Our choices of words matter. Language (both spoken and written) is an art form.

Printing and handwriting can be artistically beautiful.

Celebrating beauty every day brings joy – whether it’s the changing of the seasons, the smile of a friend, or simply a beautiful word written on the chalkboard.

This year marks my 46th autumn since that day in Mrs. Swofford’s classroom – and every single year I still remember that simple word written on the chalkboard and the lesson she taught us.

Thank you, Mrs. Swofford.

Author’s Note: I knew Mrs. Swofford had passed away last year, so at the last minute I decided to look up as I was publishing this post. Ironically, she died one year ago today – September 28, 2020.