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I know that we have all been overwhelmed and extremely frustrated by what is taking place in Ferguson, MO since August and also last night after the DA’s announcement that the Grand Jury has voted not to indict Officer Darren Wilson. Will you indulge me for a minute or two to express my heart on this matter? This is how I see things:

Racism and hatred have existed since the beginning…in Genesis Cain hated Abel and killed him. Cain was angry that God accepted Abel’s sacrifice to the LORD, so rather than repenting and being obedient…he chose to hate and then murder.

The Hebrews were enslaved in Egypt for 430 years (Exodus 12:20). The Pharoah’s worked them extremely hard and many where killed during that time by the Egyptians. While they were able to escape slavery by God’s grace, the Jewish People (Hebrews) have remained hated throughout the centuries. Why? Because God shows them favor and loves them. In fact, in Scripture He calls Israel (its beautiful Jewish People) the apple of His eye (Zechariah 2:8).

Sin causes people to do terrible and awful things. Sin breeds hatred, jealousy, resentment and those feelings, if fostered, cause us to hurt people. If we allow sin to take root, it will destroy us and those around us. As such, if Trayvon Martin and George Zimmerman would have BOTH chosen to go home, Trayvon Martin would still be alive today. In my opinion, they are both at fault. Further, if Michael Brown had listened to Officer Darren Wilson and moved to the sidewalk, he would still be alive today. For every action of sin there is a consequence. Sometimes an ultimate consequence, as we see with Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown.

It is very tragic that two young men lost their lives. It is disheartening that George Zimmerman chose to pursue Trayvon Martin, even after calling the police to handle the matter…he took matters into his own hands. However, I feel Officer Wilson was put in a vulnerable position.

My father, Jim Shook, and several of my uncles and a cousin were policemen. I know that my Daddy would have never shot anyone unless provoked and he had no other choice. My cousin, Robin, shared her thoughts this morning with us cousins about our fathers. She shared something my Uncle Tommy said, “My Dad told me this morning that every day or night before he went to work he prayed Lord don’t let me be in the position to have to hurt someone and please don’t let someone hurt me.” That statement from my uncle embodies the heart of a policeman. Yes, there are corrupt policemen and racist policemen however, that is not the norm.

Our fathers would work crazy, long shifts to protect all of us…white, black, hispanic and so on. They put on the uniform, kissed us goodbye and went to work. I remember many times when my Daddy worked his shift how my Momma would fret until he was home. There were no cellphones where he could call her and check in. Even if there were, his work ethic would not have allowed him to. I am proud of my family who have served in the police force and it breaks my heart when lawless people accuse all police of being racist because of a few. It angers me that President Obama would stand up, face the nation and say police need more training. The public, at large, does not realize the ongoing training they already receive. The time spent at the shooting range to re-qualify to shoot their firearms. My Daddy had excruciatingly painful rheumatoid arthritis and was always concerned that he would not qualify at the range and thus lose his job; or that his arthritis would cause him not to be able to protect the public, if he had to shoot. President Obama spoke out of pure ignorance and only to appease certain people.

The only solution to sin is turning toward the Savior. We have turned our backs on God…children are not being raised according to the Scriptures. They are thrown into public schools that are teaching them that Islam is right….what are Muslims doing….killing. They are taught that it is wrong to submit to authority, it begins in the home when a mother undermines the father’s authority in the home. It continues when a teacher disciplines a child at school for doing something wrong and the parents go up to the school and have the teacher disciplined for correcting and embarrassing their child and so it goes. It begins in the home….

Sin is not a discriminator…its target is whites, blacks, hispanics and so on. God is not a discriminator either…He sent His son, Jesus, to die on Calvary for us all…Praise His Name! That’s my nickle’s worth today. Thank you for reading.

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TRADITIONS OLD AND NEW

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I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed tonight by the upcoming holidays. I’m so wishing I could be in Virginia and see my sisters, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins and friends…I am missing my Momma and Daddy, Grandparents…..just family. I would give my eye teeth to go for a walk around the lake with you,Christie….or play board games and drink hot, yummy coffee with you Rene! I would love to smell my Momma’s turkey cooking all night in the oven and waking up Thanksgiving morning smelling the delicious aroma permeating the house! I would give just about anything to have just one of my Aunt Scarlett‘s meatballs or my Aunt Lorraine‘s potato salad. I would love to have a big bowl of beans and cornbread at Momma’s kitchen table. I long to sit around the piano with my sister, Angela or my friend, Wanda and sing hymns while Daddy comes in with a little bass. I want to taste snowflakes melting on my tongue and feel the leaves crunching under my feet.

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Each year I think it will get better and I will be a bit less homesick than last year…but it never works out that way. Life is so short and time isn’t always our friend…our loved ones pass on, siblings lose touch, cousins become strangers and we wake up and realize we are our parents now.

Dave‘s parents will be here on Dec. 11th, but they will be leaving before Christmas…and just like Thanksgiving…it will be Dave, Joshua and me…so, I’m trying to find new traditions that we can celebrate, as a family of three. It doesn’t make sense to cook a big ole turkey for us…but there IS a need for traditions. The traditions we started as a young family, when Momma was still here and we traveled to Virginia twice a year have faded. I know for Joshua the need to form new traditions is so important for him…but it is difficult to embrace.

I am so grateful that God put Dave and I together…to make a life. I’m looking forward to seeing where he will take us in life…will it be Israel…will it be here…I look forward to the coming years when Joshua becomes a pastor, takes a wife and starts filling our lives with grand-babies to love and kiss and hold and begin again…NEW TRADITIONS.

It is difficult to let go of the traditions your parents established and create your own…but it is needful. So, I embrace the holidays and look forward to the lessons God will teach me and the new traditions we will form. After all, God is in the details and I have entrusted all the details of my life to HIM. There is no other way.

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Three Steps Forward…Two Steps Back

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Most days life can be an outright struggle…the news promises to overwhelm, the pressures of teaching, the endless, mountains of housework and Satan constantly barking at my heels to just, “give up.” Giving up, I believe, would be the most simple thing…to lay down and quit breathing…yet, as soon as the thought floods my mind, God starts whispering His Word to me…like a babbling brook that I have known for so long…it floods my heart…tinkling over the overwhelmed places and hurt places in my soul. Reminding me that Philippians 4:8 says,

…whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy — meditate on these things.

There is nothing true, noble, pure, lovely or of good report in contemplating when will be your last breath…there is no virtue in deciding where or how. There is nothing romantic in jumping off of an overpass or into an alligator infested lake…these types of thoughts only bring more pain and anxious thoughts, and Paul reminds me,

Be anxious for nothing , but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God…

My requests? Through prayer and supplication? “Oh, dear Heavenly Father…please take away the anxious thoughts, the delusional thoughts that my world would be so better off without me…take away the darkness of depression that snuffs out any light…YOUR light, Father. Forgive me for not trusting you at all times, and wrap me in Your Peace…”

…and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts AND minds through Christ Jeus.

So, then, belief is an action…to believe what He says is true..I believe, Lord, help my unbelief. Then to put my belief into action, I must…

…forget those things which are behind and reach forward to those things which are ahead.

A lot of action…a lot of working…a lot of “choosing”, as my friend, Terri, would say…it will require endurance. If I do not put my belief into action and press on, Satan would love nothing more than to destroy me and in so doing, destroy those around me. In Hebrews it tells me that…

For you have need of endurance, so that after you have done the will of God, you may receive the promise.

His will is not for me to take my life…it is for me to trust Him…even in the dark and anxious times…for He has not forsaken me….He has not forsaken you. Pressing in and pressing on, In Jesus Name.

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NO LONGER A YOKE OF BONDAGE

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How the Lord’s Yoke Guides and Comforts

As a woman, I fulfill many roles – daughter, sister, wife, mother, teacher, nurse and the list follows. Each role that I embrace imposes upon me certain dictates. For instance, as a daughter I am to honor my mother. I also glean from her wisdom, and learn from her continued instruction. As a sister, I listen and encourage my sisters. We learn from and share our life experiences with one another. And, finally as a mother, I nurture, teach, doctor “boo boos,” and love my son as no other person can love him. However, the most important role I have is that of servant and child of the Lord. This is a role of submission, obedience, learning and humility. When I asked the Lord Jesus to come and live in me and be Lord of my life, I submitted all of me to Him. This submission placed a yoke upon me, as no other role I have to follow. A yoke, according to the Dictionary.com, is something that couples or binds together; an emblem or symbol of subjection, servitude, or slavery.

My first instinct is to resist this yoke. Much as oxen resist the yoke placed upon them, I have the same urge to shake it off and to rid myself of it. It is heavy, and I often look at it as a burden that I cannot carry. However, as I ease into the yoke and accept it – ever yielding to it – I find comfort and security in it. Lamentations 3:27 says, “It is good for a man to bear the yoke in his youth.” After reading that verse, I thought it did not apply to me. I am no longer a youth, and could not see how the verse could be applied to me. As I considered it and prayed about it, I then replaced the word “youth” with the word “beginning.” As I looked at it that way, I began to see that the yoke is foundational – it contains me and keeps me from wandering. It was necessary to place it upon me, in order for me to grow and mature. The yoke is becoming lighter and easier to bear, as I recognize that my submitting is needful, and so it has become a comfortable place – one I enjoy.

Jesus said in Matthew 11:29 and 30, “Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.” What a joy it is to take on and submit to His yoke. I am now longing for and desiring it. His teaching is faithful and true – His yoke is easy for me. Submitting to the Lord is uncomfortable at first, because we have to put away the sins that keep us from serving Him faithfully. Think of an uncooked egg – when you crack it open, you can see that the yoke is holding it all together; however; when you break that yoke, it falls apart. When we shake off the yoke He has placed upon us, we fall apart too. I do not enjoy being all mixed up like that egg. When you start to recognize that the yoke is not meant to hurt you, but it is to guide you and keep you secure, it is easier to bear it, and becomes a joyful experience.

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I cherish the many roles I fulfill every day and I humbly thank Him for each role He has entrusted to me. My prayer is that the Lord will continue to instruct me and allow me to bear His yoke. I encourage you to not be fearful or reluctant to submit to His yoke for it will guide you faithfully as you serve Him.

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Taste and See …The Lord is Good

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My son, Joshua, came to me this morning and asked, “Momma, do you sometimes wonder if God really exists?”  

I knew that question was coming from somewhere deep within his soul, as Joshua has accepted Jesus as Savior…there was no doubt about it!  I understood it was coming from a longing to know Him more, know Him deeper…a need for sweeter communion with His God.  I told him that all of us, from time-to-time, have those questions…those longings…a desire for a deeper understanding…more importantly … GOD.KNOWS.

I said,

“Joshua, if you remove your shoes and walk through the grass, can you not feel each blade as it sneaks up between your toes?  How about when you walk on the beach and the hot sand warms you all the way up to your nose?  Do you remember how the ocean tastes when it breaks against your face?  If you remember these things, sweet boy, you have experienced what David talks about in Psalm 34:8, ‘Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who trusts in Him!’  God has demonstrated Himself in all of creation…in each blade of grass, every granule of sand and in the saltiness of the sea.  He has evidenced His great love for you in all of these things, from the great to the minuscule because He knew your heart would wonder from time-to-time.  So, each time you see a bird gliding gracefully across the sky, the breeze on your face or a funny little sand crab making his way across the morning shore…remember your Creator and His amazing reminders to you that HE DOES EXIST and He loves you with so great a love.”

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I love Joshua and I especially love his tender-heartedness for God … I do not doubt that God will do great things in Josh.  I am so grateful that when I die and Joshua cannot come to me and ask, “Momma, do you think God really exists?” he can look to the sea or the wind or the grass and see his Creator.  More importantly, he can go to God’s Word and listen to the Father say, “Oh, yes, Joshua…I AM!”

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Cattle Grates and Chastening

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My mind has been flitting off in at least 1,000 directions — I had a rough night sleeping — maybe I should say, rather, that I had a rough night falling asleep — my hips were hurting and my shoulders were hurting — mostly my mind was hurting. The grey matter between my ears kept wanting to go on long walks down memory lane and insisted we go.  There were a flood of memories — smells that I remember — sights — a longing to return to some memories and an urgent need to flee from others. However, the thoughts that meandered through my sleeplessness last night were of my grandparents. I was remembering this one time that I was staying at my Mammaw and Pappaw’s house for a couple of weeks during the summer — I was probably all of 6 or 7 years old — and I wanted to go home so bad. They lived in Goochland, VA and my house was in Powhatan, VA (about a 30 min. drive) and I was CERTAIN in my little mind that I could walk home. So, I packed up my little suitcase and headed down the long driveway through their field and stopped at the end of the driveway where the cattle grate was — I paused and thought long and hard on whether or not I should cross that cattle grate and head to Powhatan — I knew somewhere inside of me that crossing that grate was like walking through a door you could not walk back through. I don’t know how long I stood at the end of the lane before the good sense God gave me crept back in and I turned around and headed back to the house. Unbeknownst to me, Mammaw was watching me out of the window and in her wisdom she was letting me reckon it all out for myself! However, she told me later in life that she had purposed in her heart that if I crossed that cattle grate, she was coming after me and was going to give me a whooping!!!

God also allows us to reckon things out, but I think that He also watches from the window, as it were, and purposes that if we attempt to cross the cattle grate — He’s going to give us a whooping. Hebrews 12:5,6 “My son do not despise the chastening of the Lord, nor be discouraged when you are rebuked by Him: For whom the Lord loves He chastens, and scourges every son whom He receives.” I will always be grateful for my Grandparents chastening and even more thankful that God loves me enough to chasten, rebuke and scourge me — from time-to-time when I am in need of it. Sometimes God uses Grandparents, sometimes friends but most assuredly He always uses His Word — like a cattle grate!

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Holy Eyes, Unholy Acts — The End of an Age

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Because you have kept My command to persevere, I also will keep you from the hour of trial which shall come upon the whole world, to test those who dwell on the earth.  Revelation 3:10

My heart has been so overwhelmed the last few weeks with all of the chaos around the world and the uprising of the Islamic State (IS, ISIS, ISIL).  The brutality they have sanctioned on Christians in Iraq and Syria, as well as other places in Europe and The Middle East are enough to make one with the strongest resolve grow faint.  Just a few weeks ago they beheaded American Journalist, James Foley, while today they have acted on their promise to behead Steven Sotloff.

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James Foley and Steven Sotloff have been ripped from the hearts of their families by a brutal, evil and heinous force that we have never been confronted with in our country.  Even during the atrocities of World War II and Adolph Hitler, we were somewhat sheltered due to the time it took to circulate to the world what was happening to the Jewish People in Nazi Germany.  The horror that they faced was just as heinous, but we were shielded from it, for the most part.  My prayers go forth for the families of Mr. Foley and Mr. Sotloff and the journey they are now having to walk through because of terror.

I feel that we have come to the end of an age in America…we no longer have the idyllic America that my parents raised me in and that of which Norman Rockwell painted.  Each day my heart is ripped out of my chest by the headlines which promise me that the greatest storm I have ever witnessed is on the horizon and I need to baton down the hatches.  I do not have the luxury of burying my head in the sand, pretending that if I ignore what is going on in the world, it won’t happen to me.  Innocence is being, and has been, stripped from our minds and we are confronted with the total death of morals, brotherly love and almost hope.  Has hope been murdered?  I read that the Christians in Iraq were questioning if God loved them…had He abandoned them…what had they done that God would punish them by allowing IS to drive them from their homes and kill them because they will not convert to Islam.  Those profound questions from my brothers and sisters in Christ have caused me to ask that question, “Has hope been murdered?”.

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I not only believe, but I know that the answer to the question is an emphatic “NO!”  Hope has not been murdered…it is not dead and moreover, GOD IS NOT DEAD.  God is also not oblivious to the persecution that is going on around the world to His children.  Jesus warned us that we would be persecuted for His Names’ sake.

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Furthermore, Jesus promised us that He would also be there with us through it all.  In Hebrews 13:5 Jesus said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”  That, beloved, is a promise with absolute certainty!  His Holy Eyes see the persecution of the saints and the unholy acts of those who persecute them.  The persecution will not go unpunished by our Holy God.  He will bless the saints according to His great riches in Glory.

It is so easy to be overwhelmed and faint with all that we are seeing…but hold on, remain faithful and DO NOT LOSE HEART.  God is not dead….He is not unaware and He has not forsaken the righteous.  All of these things must come to pass…and He promises in Revelation 22:20, “Surely I am coming quickly.”  I pray God’s strength and peace over you.

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Stairway to Heaven

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I received a post in my news feed on Facebook that caused me to think long and hard about the message it conveyed to the reader and the message it conveyed to me.  The longer I pondered it, the more I realized that I completely disagreed with it and here is why:

I know the profound sadness of losing someone you love so dearly and having to continue on without their presence in your life.  For many, that pain is almost unbearable and they feel that the only way they will ever find relief is for that loved one to return to this earth or go to Heaven and join them.  I miss my Daddy and Momma greatly along with my grandparents and several friends that have gone on to be with the Lord.  There have been many, many times I have wished they were here for me to share something with them or just be near them.  However, I have never wished to bring them back again.

My mind is drawn to the precious time while Jesus was on the earth that two sisters, Mary and Martha, were grieved at the loss of their brother, Lazarus.  In John 11 it tells us the Mary and Martha sent for Jesus because Lazarus was ill and they wanted Jesus to come and heal him.  However, when Jesus arrived in Bethany, Lazarus was dead and buried for four days!  Mary and Martha were vexed with Jesus for not coming sooner because they knew if He had come sooner Lazarus may not have died.  When they took Jesus to where they had laid Lazarus, in verse 35 it states that, “Jesus wept.”  Just those two words….

“Jesus wept!”  Did you see that?  He wept…for His friend, Lazarus…He, the great I AM, the Creator of the world…our Savior wept.  In verses just before that and again after it shares over and over that His spirit groaned within Him.  Wow, I know what that groaning feels like! 

Now, before we jump too far ahead of ourselves and say, “Well, Jesus brought Lazarus back to life, so why doesn’t he bring my husband, brother, friend back to life?”  I don’t believe Jesus brought Lazarus back to satisfy the grief Mary and Martha were experiencing.  I believe Jesus brought him back to simply given them a reference to what a resurrection is so that they would understand and believe it when He Himself would be resurrected after His crucifixion and death.  For if they did not understand what a resurrection is they may have simply believed that Jesus’ body was stolen.

Clearly, though, in this passage it also shows that Jesus is certainly aware of and acquainted with our sorrow and grief.  He understands our pain when we lose a loved one.  With that said, we need to understand that the work the Lord laid out for each of us is completed when He calls us home.  There is no unfinished business or even unfinished love.  Upon our death, we have served and loved completely and there is nothing more here for us to do.  Those of us left behind are the ones who feel the incompleteness and lack…not the saint who has been ushered into the presence of our Holy God.

When the Lord does call us home, Scripture tell us that is precious to God.  Psalm 116:15 says, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.”  My prayer is that I can find precious and complete what He finds precious and complete and not wish another day of pain, sickness and striving on my loved ones.  I do hope this will become your prayer, too.

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There Is Hope

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“Oh, that I had wings like a dove!  For then I would fly away and be at rest.”  Those are the words of King David in Psalm 55:6 and I cannot tell you the times I have felt that exact same way.  Clinical depression is an illness that afflicts many people all over the world; and, it is my struggle, as well.

Robin Williams’ suicide on August 11, 2014 has caused a great awareness of the deep pain people experience, yet on the outside they seem so jovial, happy and are usually making everyone around them laugh.  I think for many who battle severe depression, laughter is a coping mechanism so that they do not have to deal with the pain they are feeling.  It is also a window shade, as it were, to hide the darkness and pain from others.  I can only imagine the darkness and pain Robin Williams suffered on a daily basis; however, I wish to share my struggle with you in the hope of shedding some understanding of the journey I am walking.

My first memory of longing to die was when I was five years old.  There was such a profound sense of sadness in me that was uncomfortable and caused me a great deal of physical pain.  The longing to die only increased as I grew older and I acted on that longing for the first time when I was 15 years old.  I was in the tenth grade and while in school one day, I took an overdose.  My teacher found me in the girl’s bathroom and called for an ambulance.  That would prove to be the beginning of a lifetime of self-destructive behavior for me.

My Daddy and Momma made sure that I would get into counseling, but in their shame my depression and suicide attempt would be hidden from most everyone we knew.  The only people who knew that I attempted suicide were my pastor, siblings, one aunt and an uncle.  It was hidden from everyone else.  The “news” made it around my school, of course, and after a two week absence, I returned to only be met by very cruel comments.  One student asked why I was back and said that it was too bad I did not succeed.  I wish I could chalk this up to “youth;” however, cruel remarks are thought and said by adults too.

After my first suicide attempt, I accepted Christ Jesus as my Savior and began the process of trying to give over to Him my feelings of worthlessness and shame.  I prayed, I read Scripture and I sought wise counsel, yet I still struggled with those demons.  This only increased my feelings of worthlessness and added doubts that Jesus had truly saved me.  Being a born-again Christian does not guarantee that you will no longer have struggles, in fact, it guarantees that the journey will become more difficult in some ways.  After all, God showed us in His Word the example of King David…a man after HIS OWN heart.

The Apostle Paul suffered from a malady, as well, and said that he prayed and pleaded three times for God to “remove the thorn in his side.”  2 Corinthians 12:7,8  However, Jesus answers him in verse 9 this way, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”  

I do not know how you feel about they way God dealt with Paul’s affliction, but it did not set will with me, at first.  I understood that God wanted me to be whole in every way; however, I did not understand that He first needed me to be wholly surrendered and wholly His before I could be whole.  Now that I do understand, it does not make it any easier for me to deal with my depression but now I realize that there is healing, in many ways, while we sojourn on this earth…but…someday there will be ULTIMATE HEALING.  Ultimate healing of the body and the mind because He will give us new bodies…incorruptible bodies…our souls will no longer languish and strive with pain and disability.  We will then be like Him!

Depression is a cruel and debilitating disease that causes great pain, both emotional and physical.  There is something Robin Williams was not told; and I wish someone had reached out to him and held him and told him…THERE IS HOPE…so don’t give up.

Some days are long and very difficult to sojourn…when those days come you have to cling to the Rock.  If you are having a hard time grasping it, call a friend or your pastor and say, “Help me, please, before I let go.”  I implore you not to let go…trust the One who is acquainted with your sorrow for if no one has told you today…THERE IS HOPE.

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A Place Called Home

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Those who know me well, know that I’m from a place I fondly call: “My Beloved, Virginia.” I miss Virginia so much that at times my heart aches. There are so many things engraved on my soul that I long for each day and miss even more with each day that passes, as I’m away. I miss Virginia when the daffodils tease, as they reach for the sun through the snow begging for Spring to join them in their early blooms. Then as the snow finally melts away and the grass begins to share it’s lovely carpet of green climbing up through the mud left behind by that melting snow — with a promise that life will begin anew — the dogwoods start budding and the cardinals return to build their nests and prepare to raise their young.

As Spring marches forward, the hot lazy days of summer come in and families start gathering for reunions to meet the newest members of the family and treasure, once again, time with those who joined years ago. I remember running and playing with cousins who were as close to me as brothers and sisters and all the fun we had playing in the fields and cooling off in the lake at the end of a hot summer day, which never ended without us running through the dark with mason jars collecting fire flies to light our way home. There was always a bottomless glass of iced tea, watermelon picked straight from the garden and Pappaw threatening to chew our ears off, as we squealed with glee, and Mammaw pretending to be worried that he might actually succeed. How I long for one more summer to spend my time between Grandma’s house and Pappaw and Mammaw’s house where I was promised to be spoiled with all the pure, Virginia love that could be given.

When the sun set and summer finally gave into the cooler weather of fall, the leaves began to turn every color of red, yellow, umber and finally brown as they let loose of the trees so that we could gather them into what seemed like giant mountains. We would spend hours raking and then what seemed like seconds to enjoy diving, jumping and hiding beneath them. With the final motivation from Momma and Daddy, telling us it was time to clean them up, we raked as hard as we could to the ditch so Daddy could burn them. I remember the smell and the flecks of ash as it floated away with a final “goodbye.” Suddenly, it seemed, as if magically, Thanksgiving would come and oh, how grateful we truly were to grow up in a place that assured us of love.

With the smell of the turkey fading away and the fragrance of pine and cinnamon filling the air, Christmas was ushered in to give us the gift of Redemption and Salvation born of a virgin, Mary, found lying in a manger, in a little town so far from a place named after another virgin, Elizabeth, than our little minds could fathom. We bowed are hearts and praised God for those gifts. The snow fell and we found once again we had come full circle in my beloved Virginia.

When someone asks where I’m from, my thoughts with a lifetime of memories saunter through my mind much like the James River saunters through my homeland and I proudly say, “my home is Virginia.” For me, Virginia means home. Another Virginian felt the same way and he described home this way:

“At night across the mountains when darkness falls, and the winds sweep down out of the hollows, the wild things with their shiny eyes come to the edge of the clearing. At such an hour, the house seems safe and warm. An island of light and love in a sea of darkness. At such an hour the word home must have come into being. Dreamed up by some creature that never knew a home. In his yearning there must have come to mind the vision of a mother’s face, a father’s deep voice, the aroma of fresh baked bread, sunshine in a window, the muted sounds of rain on a roof, the sigh of death, the cry of a new born babe and voices calling good night. Home ~ an island, a refuge, a haven of love.” Earl Hamner

Yes, my home is Virginia and there for me are those precious memories of a haven of love.