I decided to write another entry and angle on my physical progress, as I hope someone is motivated and encouraged if he or she is working to improve their health and fitness.
I have always been passionate about health and fitness, and even now call myself an athlete despite the fact that I probably have very little natural athletic ability. I remember thinking in the past that I would really like helping others, especially those in my age group (fifty plus), to get fit and lean. I shied away from that because as I did indeed approach that age, I could not even solve my own fitness issues satisfactorily. A personal trainer started me on the right track and finally I did resolve those issues, as I wrote about in an earlier blog. I will not digress and repeat myself, but you may go back a few entries and read that about that.
It was and is very rewarding to accomplish a set goal. So now I do feel that I can really help others do the same. That is why I recently became a Beachbody coach. I have been using BB workouts for a couple of years now and have become very familiar with the company. Their return policy and integrity impressed me from the very beginning. Not only that, but the products do what they are touted to do if you use them correctly. It's only a ten-year-old company but is growing in an impressive way.
As I continued to mull over how I could be of help to others looking to reach their fitness goals, it seemed the only option was investment in a gym and equipment, etc. etc. I was not at all inclined in that direction. That's when I discovered the Beachbody's coaching program and I was intrigued, to say the least. At first I thought it to be just a mentoring program, which it is, but on closer inspection I found it is actually a way to build a business it you care to work it. So after some deliberation I decided to become a coach. The investment is minimal, and actually, anyone can become a coach. Many of the ones signed up are just beginning their fitness journeys. There are so many contests. I have had such fun entering the WOWY (Work Out With You) contests. You just enter your daily workout and then others working out at the same time become your "success buddies." At the end of the workout you can chat with those who have just completed their workout too. Every day a workout is chosen for cash and all kinds of other prizes. I have "met" and have been communicating with several of the buddies in TX. I just met one gal who basically lives down the road a couple of hours away from me. She is a taxidermist and is about my age, and we've had great fun exchanging notes about our fitness and coaching progress. I'm also entered in the monthly success story contest which is worth $1000.00 each month. If you win that you are automatically entered in the quarterly contest which is worth $10,000. And then there is the yearly contest worth $250,000.
Day 100
One of the neat things to me is the opportunity I have had to talk to others about getting fit and into shape. People are doing that more and more at home instead of at the gym, because statistics say that people that work out at home save 288 hours and almost $1000/year. Those numbers would be even higher for me since I live out in the middle of nowhere!! As I have said before, it is especially rewarding to talk to people my age because the general attitude is that once it starts going downhill, well, that's just the way it is, you know, aging and all. Poppycock, I say! Get off your duff and you can do it too! What is the price of adding at least a dozen years to your life?
Check out my BB website at www.bodyofhonor.com and read about my transformation. Find out more about the workouts, nutrition supplements, contests, and other fitness information. Let me help you learn about living long and living strong. What if YOU could get that way and then help others? That's the concept of Beachbody.
In my Bible I have two Mother's Day momentos. If the house was on fire, that Bible with those two things is the first item I'd rescue.
One is a letter written by my elder son when he was a sophomore in college. Here is an excerpt:
"You have always been an example of faith and perseverance to me. You never
do give up. You always have faith that things will work out. That is always a
source of strength to me. Mom, thanks for being my confidant. I always
remember spending vast amounts of time just laying (or is it lying?) on your bed
and just talking to you. You always put down what you were doing to talk to
me. Thanks, that means a lot..."
I wept for fifteen minutes after reading the whole letter. I've read it many times over the years and cried every time. You always hear about young people that never appreciate their parents until they're at least in their thirties, but I never felt more loved and appreciated than through this example of gratitude from a twenty-year-old.The second is a card given to me by my younger son as a junior in college. Here is a tear-jerker excerpt: (this is pre-Stacie!)
"How do you tell the single most important woman in your life what a
difference she's made--or how many times the sound of her voice has
lifted your spirit and given you the courage to keep following the path
of your dreams?"
I'm already starting to cry again!
What a joy these boys have been to me! We've rocked, read, swam, hiked, played baseball and football, ridden horses, skied, sang, flown, sight seen, fished, agreed, disagreed, overlooked one another's imperfections, laughed and cried together. They've trusted me with secrets, changed flat tires, opened doors, pulled out chairs, driven me around, and in general treated me like a queen. I cannot recall one time either one of them ever embarrassed me. I spanked them and loved them as hard as I could. When I'm tempted, usually on Mother's Day, to look back and regret all the things that as a momI did wrong, I shut that down quickly because I know they love me anyway. And I know that wherever I missed it, God is big enough to fill in the gaps!
At the San Saba River
"No, son, we're not taking him back. We're keeping him!"
Trait, Ty and I (You can't see Ty yet!)
Sons are never too old to rock!!
I found out last Sunday that the Four Gents For Jesus were reuniting for a singing during the Sunday service at the Methodist Church. I really wanted to go and hear them, but because of commitments at my own church could not. I did, however, hook up with them and their wives for lunch.
It was quite a lively group, and the laughter and fun was nonstop. They even sang one song just for me in the restaurant!
Mitch, Glennon, Steve, Jack
They do not get together very often, for just as they were really rolling along and getting strong, three of the four moved away. One moved to become a professor at a university. One retired and moved away, and one moved his business to another city. But they sing just as if they had never been apart.
I really love these guys and their great wives. They did much to help me promote my book. I hope it is not so long before I hear them sing again.
Miss California's determined stand on her beliefs deserves nothing less than heartiest laudation. I watch in admiration as Carrie Prejean refuses to back down from or apologize for her statements on marriage as between one man and one woman, despite the recent pressure from the Miss California pageant officials. In my book she is one amazing young woman, a role model for us all. Even though the winner, Miss North Carolina (I don't even know HER name!), claims she was always in the lead anyway, no one will ever know for sure how much Perez Hilton's zero score affected the final outcome. Carrie doesn't have the Miss USA crown, but in all likelihood her name is more well- known than the winner's. Heaven must be cheering!
"Like an athlete I punish my body, treating it roughly,
training it to do what it should, not what it wants to."
1 Corinthians 9:27, Living Bible
I have always enjoyed physical fitness. In school I played volleyball, basketball, and ran track. I picked up a tennis racket at age twenty-nine and still play a lot. My five-foot-ten-inch frame has always been reasonably slender, even eating anything I desired. So when my body began to change undesirably, it was a whole new game that I'd never before played and the rules were foreign to me. It was only a few pounds, but I noticed that I began to lean more and more toward clothing that covered the little roll starting to appear around my middle. I did not in the least like this. Because I am so tall, most folks didn't notice, but I did, and when I saw myself in recent Christmas photos I knew I needed to find what would work for me.
I have always worked out. After my first baby was born I bought a record album (yes, for you younger ones, an album that plays on a turntable!) called Jazzercise. I open up the accordion-style guide book and laid it on top of the dining room table while I played the album and tried to do the exercises. Talk about the dark ages! I did, however, quickly rid myself of the baby weight. In the past I could just exercise harder, drop sugar for a time, or bread, and get right back to that ideal weight. Enter menopause, and no longer!!
Right before Christmas my Tulsa Daughter-In-Law emailed me asking if I would like to do a session with her and her personal trainer during the holidays. I had never done that before and it sounded like fun. We arrived at 6 a.m. at Body Sculpt and this buff guy takes me back in the office to weigh me and get my body fat percentage. I shucked shoes and jewelry so I could get on that scale and be OK. He weighs me in at 162 pounds and 30% body fat. Here's how the conversation went:
" Are you sure this scale is right? My scale at home says something totally different!"
The trainer chuckles and sighs, and I can tell he's heard THAT before! "Yes ma'm, believe me, it's right."
"Oh gosh, you've GOT to be KIDDING!"
But he wasn't....and since this was absolutely unacceptable to me, on January 15, at age 53, I started a journey into new territory that has not only changed my body but also has helped me to completely renew my mind. Three things were key, actually four.
First, I put myself on 1400 calories a day. Come on...I don't need to do that. I eat healthy. Yeah, I found out I was eating healthy to the tune of about 2500-3000 calories/day! The first week was grueling. I DETEST counting calories. But I did it, and after the first week I didn't have to run to calorieking.com every few minutes. Now I hardly ever look anything up and I can even guess on things I haven't eaten before.
Second, I added a LOT of protein to my diet. The trainer said I needed at least 113 grams/day. If you're an athlete you need a gram/pound of body weight. More is better that too little.
Third, I started a really rigorous weight training program. In the past I had injured myself lifing weights and so I went to other exercises. But I found a really great training program on beachbody.com called Chalean Extreme, similar to P90X. One dvd exclusively teaches you how to correctly lift weights so you don't hurt yourself. There is also intense cardio in between days of strength training.
Last but not least, I dug into God's Word to renew my mind because that is where the real battle is fought.
Was I ever shocked when at the thirty day mark I had lost seven pounds and seven inches. Now, at the 100-day mark, I have lost 18 pounds and that many inches. My body fat percentage is hanging around 20, which according to Chalene's charts is on the lean side of lean for my age. Here are some of the really fun things I have noticed:
~The roll around my middle is gone.
~My cheeks (NOT the ones on my face!) no longer rest on the tops of my hamstrings!
~The little pooches on the sides of the tops of my hips at the back are almost totally gone
~When I'm bouncing my tennis ball getting ready to serve, out of the corner of my eye I can see a cut, defined shoulder
~For the first time ever, I HAVE ABS!! I'm just starting to see the rip in my abs! Oh wow, I didn't have that when I was 18!
I noticed so many other benefits. I have absolutely no pain in my joints after I finish three hours of tennis or thirty minutes of jogging up my mountain road. That would stand to reason since for every pound lost, four pounds of pressure are taken off the joints! And the more muscle you have the better your immune system works. My back is rarely sore or tired because my core is so much stronger. In fact, the only drawback is that now I need some new clothes!
Before
AfterI have to say that it took hard work, discipline, and a LOT of talking to God, but the journey has not been unbearable. It was very rewarding to see the transformation week by week, and my husband's compliments are music to my ears. Also, I've been able to help some other folks, especially those my age, who fall into that dreadful, deceitful trap of thinking that "it's just the way it is" when you get older. Nonsense!! Anyone at any age can get fit and healthy.
Well, gotta run now. It's time to go work out, and then I'm going shopping!!
This morning in my prayer room I stood looking out the window at the eastern horizon. The day promised to be a fabulous representation of spring in full bloom. From out of nowhere I had a random thought, something that had not crossed my mind in years. It would be so fun to go horseback riding today! Now, where did THAT come from? The best I could recall, I had not been on a horse in at least ten years, probably closer to fifteen. I had grown up riding horses and had had all kinds of escapades. Once when I was fifteen, I was out riding with my English teacher, who broke horses on the side for extra income. He was training a new eighteen-month-old colt, and so he was riding that horse and I was riding a more seasoned one on a brand new saddle of his. About halfway through our ride, way out in the desert, he said that he would like to ride the new saddle, and since the colt was well warm now that it would be all right for me to ride him. We switched animals. Things were going along pretty well, and I'm still not sure to this day what spooked that colt, but he took off bucking across the sand and the cactus. I stayed on pretty well for a few minutes but eventually the colt went right, and I went left...right into the big middle of a cactus. I had to go to the hospital and get my arm sewn up, and we pulled stickers out of all parts of my body for weeks! I had several adventures like that.
I thought of all the people I knew with horses. My sister had access, but she lives a hundred miles away. All the other people I could think of I did not know well enough to ask. I turned away from the window with a sigh. My attention was drawn to the clock and the lateness of the hour. I sat down for a short time of worship and prayer before getting ready for church. The goodness of God was overwhelming for those few moments. I forgot all about the horseback riding as I dressed for church and headed out. After church, I was talking with my friend Camille. We are both seriously into physical fitness, and on several Sundays she has asked me to come out to her ranch in the afternoons and walk. We had never done it due to conflicts.
"Hey, Camille...are you going walking this afternoon? Because if you are I'd like to come out and go too.""No, my mom is coming out and we're going to ride horses. Wanna come with us?"
"DID YOU SAY HORSES??? I DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD HORSES!"
I drove out to the Z Bar and by three o'clock we were saddling up and getting ready to go. I was surprised at how much I remembered about doing all of this. Getting on and off was a breeze!
I rode Camille's horse Rubio, and she rode her husband's horse. We rode for a couple of hours on their 8000-acre place. It brought back so many memories of days gone by. I thought of things I had not thought of in years. 
We laughed and talked and just enjoyed God's creation. I just kept thinking of the sweetness of God; it wasn't anything I had even asked for but only thought about, and here I was doing it. Still a country girl........
"Children are living messages we send to a time
we will not see."
John Whitehead
The bluebonnets in Texas are popping out everywhere. Every spring, when I see the very first one, the same memory floods my mind: driving home in our 1977 gold Buick Regal holding our newborn first child. I labored only five hours before the nine-pound-six-ounce wonder was flopped on my stomach. At that very moment I became aware of something I had not known about myself: I would be capable of seriously harming with my bare hands anyone that laid a finger on his precious head!
Along with this thought came another: I am now responsible for the life of another human being. I was twenty-two, and that seemed overwhelming at the time. We took him home, and he cried all night the first night. Neither his father nor I knew what to do, so we took turns walking him and I nursed him a lot. I guess he just finally wore himself out and fell asleep.
Those days seemed to go by very slowly, and so the transformation in me was so subtle that I didn't even see it until years had gone by. I was becoming a much better person. I deeply regret not having at least two more children; just think how terrific I'd be!! He he!
Here are some things I learned from my children:
~What is really important--Don't sweat the small stuff. Sit down and color, go outside and throw the football, go to the park, the dishes will wait.
~Everything doesn't have to be perfect! Throw a couple of sandwiches in a bag, grab some chips, and go impromptu.
~Run through the mud puddles WITH them!
~Appreciation of my own mother--the sacrificER always loves more than the sacrificEE
~Everything I do matters
Where did the years go? This child is grown now with a son of his own. It is both a blessing and an amusement to watch him raising his child, because I know that his son is now teaching him!
Although I did not attend a scheduled TEA party, I think they gathered more steam than anyone anticipated. The liberal media blasted insult after insult toward participants all over the country. A good sign. The grass-roots-organized movement evidently involved both red and blue participants, another good sign.
I do not know how much will be accomplished by these displays, but at least someone somewhere is saying enough is enough. I would like to hear from anyone who did attend one of these events and what your perspective was.
"Foolishness is bound up in the heart of
a child, but the rod of discipline will
drive it far from him."
Proverbs 22:15
A scene from an episode of Gunsmoke shows a man thoroughly paddling his son out in the middle of Dodge City Main Street. Someone runs into Marshal Dillon's office, arousing him from his nap:
"Marshal Dillon, Marshal Dillon, come quick!"
"What is it?" the marshal asks, reaching for his hat and gun belt.
"There's a man whippin' his boy out in the street!"
Marshal Dillon yawns and lies back down. "The law has no right to tell a parent how to discipline his own child."
I remember a road trip we were on when I was about six or seven. I don't remember why or how I was misbehaving, only that my mother told me that when we got home I was going to get a spanking. I straightened up immediately, because although it was still a couple of hundred miles to home, I knew my mother would NOT forget. You see, the REAL punishment was dreading the spanking. By the time we were turning into the driveway, I just wanted that spanking over with quickly. Sure enough, as soon as we unloaded the car (she tortured me just a little longer), we headed to the bathroom where the hairbrush awaited me. Even Marshal Dillon couldn't help me now! The difference in my mother and most parents today is that she never threatened over and over to paddle and then never came through with the goods. She always told us that whatever she promised us, good or bad, would be delivered! That way, she assured us, we could always trust what she said.
Although a delayed punishment can be very effective, on-the-spot discipline is usually more so. I once jerked up both of my sons in a grocery store and paddled them thoroughly after they climbed up into a refrigerated case and destroyed about twenty decorated cakes. They were about ages three and five. They were MODEL children from that time forth whenever we went into ANY store. I spanked my eight-year-old stepdaughter in the middle of an amusement park, and the rest of the day was quite pleasant. My sister tells a hilarious story of her two young daughters in a department store around the time of Easter. There were racks and racks of girls' Easter dresses. Her daughters had been warned not to play inside and around them, but did anyway. As one rack began to fall over, it created a domino effect and every rack fell all down the line. Her oldest daughter looked up at her mother and said, "We're going to get a spanking, aren't we!" Sure 'nuff!
It is unfortunate that a parent can no longer freely discipline his own child in public. Little by little our government is attempting to usurp parental rights and authority. Last summer H.J.R 97 was introduced by Representative Peter Hoekstra (R-Mich.). It basically stated that it is a fundamental right for parents to direct the upbringing of their own children. The bill failed, but thankfully, is being reintroduced with much more support. J. Michael Smith, of the Homeschool Legal Defense Association, says this: "It's possible that in the near future the United States may significantly weaken the rights of parents to raise their children. Crucial decisions that parents are accustomed to making, such as what our children read, who they associate with, what kind of discipline is used, whether we take them to church or how we educate them, all become decisions of the state if the United States ratifies the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child." Disturbing.
I understand that child abuse exists, but we are raising a politically-correct society of brats who defy authority beginning with their own parents. It's as though parents are afraid to raise their own children. And guess what: even if law after law is introduced, child abuse will STILL exist! I do not suggest that a spanking is always the strategy for discipline, but some of the scenes I've witnessed out in public certainly warrant consideration of such, if only for the benefit of others around those children. Sadly, most parents no long have that option in public.
I find it appalling that it has become necessary to protect by law common no-brainer values and rights such as marriage and parental authority. No laws or politicians can save us when four unelected judges, such as in Iowa very recently, decide that homosexual marriage would be ok there now. I believe there is hope, but it is to be found in an awakening to God all across this nation, just like with Jonathan Edwards in the 1700's. Study that out sometime and see the parallels to our present day society. Colonial America in 1726 was in moral and spiritual decline. The challenges of frontier life and a series of brutal wars had demoralized many. Many existing churches had degenerated into formal religious institutions with no power to bring much-needed change. Sound familiar? Along comes Jonathan Edwards and George Whitfield. Benjamin Franklin, who did NOT profess to be a Christian was a close friend of Whitfield and gave credit to him as having great impact on the people. After Edwards' great sermon, Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God, it was reported that there were far-reaching implications. Reports in New England showed over 150 new churches and a drastic change in the moral climate of colonial America. Harvard professor William Perry stated that the Declaration of Independence of 1776 was a direct result of the evangelical preaching of the evangelists of the Great Awakening.
I hope and pray that our rights and freedoms will not slip away one by one. Marshal Dillon had it right: the law has no right.
People stay at my house on a regular basis so I always try and keep the beds ready. A couple of weekends ago an evangelist friend and his wife, and also the music minister stayed with us as they conducted a cowboy camp meeting in our town. Today I was changing the linens and getting the beds back in shape for my next round, which will likely be my sister and her family this coming weekend, as the children have a 4H rifle shooting meet close to here.
I have a special way of folding my linens. I used to just hurriedly do the best I could, as I dreaded folding that pesky fitted sheet. My linen closet always looked like a storm had blown through. A few years ago one of my good friends, Mary Ann, taught me, via our mutual housekeeper, a great way to fold the sheets. I tweaked it a little, and I now have the most organized closet ever! A couple of weeks ago I was helping Mary Ann at her house because she had fallen and hurt her foot. The next day she asked me if I had folded a set of sheets. "Were they folded the way WE fold them???" I asked. " Absolutely not, she had replied. "Then I didn't do it." I went on to ask her how she ever came to fold them that way. She said the HER mother had started that in order for the sheets to stack nicely in her small closet. Last summer when I helped my son and daughter-in-law move into their new home, one of my assignments was to pack the linen closet. I grouped and folded all the sheet sets that way. Now it's passed all around!
A few days ago I was getting a pedicure and became engaged in a lively and thought-provoking conversation. The two women, one of them the owner of the shop, I have known for many years. They are both young mothers in their early thirties. The topic was the relationship of mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law. We all three asked and answered questions quite freely and candidly, and I came away with new perspectives from their open and honest comments. This was helpful, because some of that ground might not be easily covered by ones in the actual relationship because of the inherent possibility of treading on feelings.
I have two daughters-in-law. I could not have done better if God had allowed me to design them myself. They have been marvelous blessings to both my sons and me. Due to geographical differences, however, our relationships have been slow to develop. One of them I only see a couple of times a year; the other I see a somewhat more often because she lives closer. Both the young mothers in the shop live near their mothers-in-law and see them frequently. As a result, they are more accustomed to one another's qualities and idiosyncrasies. I laughed at their stories of the misunderstandings and resolutions, because I understood all too well.
Ridiculously, I wanted to be the perfect mother-in-law (I AM NOT!). I am certain that I have inadvertently offended both girls more often than I know. The times I DID know and tried to rectify I just seemed to make it worse! (Are you laughing yet? I'm certain you would never see a blog like this entitled Father-in-law, Son-in-law!!) On the other side of that, I have allowed my feelings to be hurt by what I was certain later to be a totally innocent action or comment. The point is, if we always give each other the benefit of the doubt, we would realize that never on purpose would either of us hurt the other. In John 16:1 Jesus said, "These things I have spoken to you that you should not be offended." He was expounding on the love walk in John 15. That really went off inside of me as I pondered the discourse that I had had with the two young women. Another consideration was Ephesians 4:2: "Living as becomes you--with complete lowliness of mind and meekness with patience, bearing with one another and making allowances because you love one another. " (Amp.)
I cannot ever recall my mother-in-law offending me even one time in twenty-one years.. That sets the bar pretty high for me. I hope that as the years go by my relationship with my daughters-in-law continues to flourish. Just because I am older does not mean I always have a better idea. There is so much for us to gain from each other. May we continue to extend the love and mercy to each other that holds us like an anchor to solid ground of mutual respect. And maybe, with their help, I'll reach that bar.
I woke up the other night to the sound of rainfall. I'm certain I heard the trees clapping their hands and the shrubs on the sides of our mountain rejoicing as well. The next morning, even on the backside of winter brownness, everything looked bright and colorful as the suffocating dust had been washed from the land.
All of our tanks had gone dry several weeks ago. The moisture deficit had grown crucial. Moisture is so important, whether to our land, or to our bones, or to our life walks in general. When dryness sets in, productivity and perspective decreases. Just like that dry tank bottom, from which all wildlife withdrew, aridity in our lives draws the same results.
I'm so glad the Spirit of the living God is water on my entire being. It refreshes me from head to toe, both on the inside and out. I know that as the dryness of this world's system persists in its attempts to disrupt and invade my life that the Kingdom of God remains the same. As I myself am watered, I can water others. I had an opportunity to do that this week as some very close friends experienced a tragedy in their family. Their niece and nephew, students at a large university in Texas, were shot and killed. We prayed together, wept, and rejoiced as we knew that they moved to heaven.
May we never accept dryness as normal. May we press into the Spirit, the moisture of God, always being prepared to not just be watered, but to water, prepared to offer refreshing to others.
"For I tell you that on the day of judgment men will
have to give account for every idle, inoperative,
non-working word they speak."
Matt. 13:36
I did not grow up in a Christian home, but I never heard my parents use any profanity. Even though I overheard them argue often, profanity was never a part of their exchange. Profanity was never spoken on television or radio. I never heard it at school. That I can recall, none of my friends or their families used profanity. Buck Davis, married to my cousin and the only father-figure I ever knew, never once used a word of profanity. He most certainly had just cause, living with ten plus kids every summer all summer on their ranch!
I was about grown when I heard my first words of profanity. I remember the shock. (Is ANYONE shocked by ANYTHING these days???) Early in my college years I used profanity because I was around people that did that and I thought it was grown-up and cool. But I remember how I felt every time I used those words. Shortly I saw how "un-classy" it really was and stopped.
These days profanity is rampant. In fact, it is so commonplace that we have become a society callused to it. Above all else, it is a heart matter: "out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks." (Matt. 13:34). Regardless of our denial of such, what we allow into our ears over and over will end up in our hearts and will come out of our mouths. Call me prudish, but every time I hear foul language, especially God's name taken in vain, it's like someone dragging their fingernails down a blackboard. Secondly, the "emphatic" use of a foul word displays such ignorance of the English language.
I am sad for our children growing up in a society that so abuses language. My friend Tina is not bashful about confronting such. She and her family were recently in a crowded restaurant. At the table behind them was a group of young people. Every other word, it seemed, was profane. Tina got up, walked over to the table, strongly expressed her disdain. The group acquiesced, and my friend and her family had a much more pleasant evening. It probably did little to change those youth, but at least Tina set an example for her own children.
We are instructed in the Bible to please God and not man. I wonder how many even consider how displeasing it is to God when foul language goes forth. Do they even think about how profanity makes others around them feel? So I leave you with this: "Let no corrupt communication proceed our of your mouth but that which is good to the use of edifying that it may minister grace to the hearers." (Eph. 4:29)
"Texas, our Texas all hail the mighty state,
Texas, our Texas, so wonderful, so great!
Boldest and grandest, withstanding every test,
O Empire wide and glorious, you stand supremely blest!"
Marking Texas Independence today caused me to reflect on what a great state it is.
A few weeks ago, during a family gathering, we were discussing how Texas could just pull out and make it just fine on its own. I mean, really, we have ports, forests, deserts, lakes, mountains, oil, wind farms, hunting, bluebonnets, Texas Rangers, Don't Mess With Texas, and Aggies! We are one of the most fiscally independent states, being second highest in gross state product and also one of only four states that operates in the black. Texas has also been labeled the most business-friendly state.
I was born and raised in Waco, Texas. Presently, I live only a few miles from the official geographical center of Texas. I have resided in El Paso and Waco, and some places in between, including Van Horn, San Angelo, and now Brady. There's no other place on earth like Texas. Every time I travel out of state, the moment I re-enter, crossing that Red River, I say, "Oh, yeah, back home again!" Recently in the news about Texas is the border conflict at El Paso and Ciudad Juarez. State Senator Dan Patrick made several futile attempts at getting Washington to notice and take action. (I guess border conflicts don't rate in the earmark program!) Finally, Governor Perry sent in the Texas National Guard. Hey, what more do we need? After all, it's Texas.
I have a special interest in Texas Indepedence. My great-great grandfather on my father's side, Stephen Williams, fought in not only the Revolutionary War, but also in the Texas Revolution. He aided in the capture of San Antonio in 1835. Recently, it was brought to my attention, through an article in Texas Monthly, that he is buried in Austin the congressional cemetery. I am excited to share that with my grandchildren and take them to visit there someday. It is as though a part of Texas legacy is just for me and mine.
I guess every state has some claim to fame, but I say, Texas, Our Texas all hail the mighty state!
"My entire life was a preparation for that landing.
My dad flew fighters in the Navy. He imparted upon
me a sort of responsibility of leadership creed.
That's really what kicked in when I was up there
and both engines went out."
Captain Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger
Currently I am reading The Bishop's Boys, a biography about the Wright brothers. Although I am not into aviation, it is a fascinating book.
A traveling circuit preacher with the United Brethren Church, Milton Wright was a very involved and caring father. A firm believer in the educational value of toys, Bishop Wright took genuine delight in selecting things that would stimulate the imagination of his children and inspire their curiosity. At eleven and seven, Wilbur and Orville were the recipients of one such gift: a toy helicopter. From their mother, who had considerable mechanical aptitude gained through working in her father's carriage shop, the boys also knew a love of tinkering; they often went to their mother for assistance and advice, as Susan had designed and built simple household appliances and toys herself. Couple these important traits and the stage is set for what would become the most important invention in modern history: the airplane.
Although flight had been contemplated for centuries, little advance was made until the Wright brothers. Hot air balloons and crude gliders were about the extent. But with the Wrights' ingenuous science of wing-warping and and wind-tunneling experiments, theirs was the first truly successful glider. They worked on these techniques for several years until the turn of the century. Then, at 10:35 a.m. December 17, 1903, at Kitty Hawk, NC, the first airplane took off and moved forward under it's own power and landed---all under complete control of the pilot. It only flew a few feet, but later that afternoon, Orville covered 852 feet in 59 seconds, demonstrating beyond a shadow of a doubt that sustained mechanical flight was indeed possible. For the next few years, Wilbur and Orville gained patents, worked on contracts with the U.S. Army and the French military, and fought patent infringers in court, winning nearly every battle. In 1909 The Wright Company was formed, and by then worldwide credit was given where credit was due. These two amazing young men, who did not smoke, drink alcohol, gamble or pursue women, worked side by side, although not always agreeing, to create an invention that would change the world forever.
Fast forward almost 100 years to the year: January 15, 2009. Flight is taken for granted, and in fact, many could not conduct successful business without this modern-day technology. There is hardly anyone who has not flown at least once. Air travel is said to be much safer even than automobile. On this day, one hundred fifty-five people board a routine flight orginating in New York and bound for Charlotte, NC. The captain is Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger. Only moments in the air, the jet engines collide with and ingest birds from a flock of geese and both engines shut down. Sully makes life-altering decisions in only a few seconds. The jet becomes a glider, and he lands it safely in the Hudson River.
Now what are the odds that he, in particular, would be an expert glider pilot? About a trillion to one. In one of the interviews he said this: "The way I describe it is for forty-two years I had made small regular deposits of education, training, and experience, and the experience balance was sufficient that on January 15 I could make a sudden, large withdrawal." As the world looked on and cheered, this humble man reduced the heroism to simply a job done in the course of a day's work. One passenger expressed his thanks to the crew and made this remark: "I think that the crew saved not only 155 people but all their descendants, and their descendants' descendants, so there will be a lot more than 155 people who lived because of your actions."
Wilbur and Orville would have been proud. I somehow think the glider techniques used for Flight 1549 and those invented and incorporated by the Wrights might not be so different. Did they have any idea what a legacy they were leaving? Does Captain Sully? I believe President Taft's remark about the Wrights could apply to all three men: "These were good American boys, who put business before pleasure. The brothers were proof that the old virtues of family solidarity and commitment, hard work, and perseverance, retained their validity in the new century."
Tomorrow I'm going to Oklahoma to visit my thirteen-month-old grandson. (While I'm there I will probably say hello to his parents as well!) He calls me GG; well, I'm sure he will call me such when he really starts talking. When he talks to me on the phone, in a language only grandmothers can understand, I'm certain he's saying GG.
In May of 2007 we found out about the expected grandchild. All of us were excited, since he would be the first one on both sides. We, the grandparents, were all asked what we would like to be called. I did not have to think about it at all. I would be GG. Now, my Grandmother Williams was very particular about her name. She must be called Grandmother, because Granny, or Grandma sounded like an old person. My own mother was the same way when my children came along, and her older grandchildren call her Grandmother or Grandmommy, and the younger set calls her Mimi.
Several years before I even had married children, I decided I would be GG to their children. I was playing in a tennis tournament in Brady one weekend. One of my friends that I had not seen in a couple of years was playing in the event as well. As we were catching up, she mentioned that she had been keeping her grandchildren. I'm not even sure how the subject came up, but in the course of conversation she mentioned that her grandchildren called her GG. "What does that stand for?" I asked. With a broad grin and a twinkle in her eye, Carolyn replied, "Gorgeous Grandmother!" Right then and there I latched on to "GG."
Fast forward several years. Today I was playing in another tournament in San Angelo, and Carolyn was there. I had not seen her since the Brady tournament. As we hugged, I reminded her of that story and told her I now had a grandson and I'm his very own GG. Laughing, she relayed the story of her own adoption of the name GG, telling that she had been in a grocery line one day having a conversation with an elderly lady. The woman told her of her grandchildren, saying they called her GG. "It means Gorgeous Grandmother," said the lady, having a similar twinkle in her eye.
Whatever my little grandson actually decides to call me will be just fine with me. I hope it's GG, since he will be setting the tone for all the other grandchildren to come. I would also like the opportunity to pass along the name to some other potential Gorgeous Grandmother out there somewhere. Legacy.....
"Legacy is a strategic commitment to link your
resources through covenantal relationships
to your generational responsibilities, which
will result in an eternal reward."
Legacy Now, p. 5
Everything you do (or don't do) matters.
One warm summer night in 1961 my father brought home something I had never seen before: a television set. I remember the first program I ever watched was the candy factory episode of I Love Lucy. I was almost six. My grown children, now inching into their thirties, have enjoyed the same program many times, and likely, my one-year-old grandson will see it at some point. We lived in El Paso, Texas, and with the rabbit ears could pick up two channels. On Saturday nights we watched Gunsmoke and on Sunday nights it was Bonanza. Once in a while on Saturday mornings we caught episodes of Mighty Mouse, Sky King or Fury.
I have absolutely no recollection of sitting around the tv for hours on end the way people do today. Television was a very insignificant part of our lives. My memories instead include roller skating on steel skates, riding bikes, swimming, jumping rope, and reading lots of books in the hot part of the day. We even built our own skate boards when we lived on Silver Street. There was a long, steep hill from my house to the bottom of the block, and we would ride those homemade skate boards in the middle of the street, from the top to the bottom, nonstop. On weekend nights, we would play hide-and-go-seek until midnight when we would reluctantly retreat inside after our parents summoned us more than once. Even as a teenager I was either sewing, playing basketball, or holding down at least one job. Everything you do (or don't do) matters.
On to the title of my blog: Legacy. Legacy has been stirring in my heart for several months now. Pondering such lends itself to some very sobering conclusions. Unless one is acutely aware of how far-reaching one's actions, attitudes, and beliefs are, and how lineage is forever affected, much of our day-to-day routine will be just that: routine. Not necessarily meaningless, but liable to be lost in the shuffle of "ho-hum" and "who cares." So I ask myself the question: What kind of a legacy am I leaving? To this day I credit my mother, in particular, for setting such an example of standard and work ethic that I see little purpose in the mindless television watching that seems not only to mesmerize much of society but in some ways cripple creativity and stunt relationship growth. What will my children, grandchildren, even the random person crossing my path take away that will affect THEIR legacy? Everything you do (or don't do) matters.
So! I have decided to write this blog and relate it to legacy. Before you hit that little red X up in the corner, sending this to cyberspace trash, allow me to note that this will not be just a cute little collection of family stories, although those may occasionally enter in for the sake of illustration. The goal is to explore rarely-considered territory of legacy by delving into its heart through the back roads of seemingly unrelated subjects. I hope you will join me from time to time, because, everything you do (or don't do) matters.
Day 100
