Tag Archives: God

A Christmas Appointment

6 Dec

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

Onisha

In 2010, we spent our first Christmas in our home in the North Carolina Mountains. We had owned the home for a couple of years but were still working and hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know our neighbors. I was excited but also anxious about leaving our life-long Florida friends as well as our church. This is an email I sent to my friends.

December 17, 2010

Yesterday was an icy day up here in the North Carolina Mountains, but by mid morning, the ice gave way to rain and washed away the snow and ice. We had received a call on Tuesday inviting us to a neighborhood Christmas Party being held Thursday night. Reluctantly we decided to attend. You know Mike and I don’t tend to be party people especially with strangers.

Parking at mountain homes is not the easiest task. The driveways tend to be long and narrow often having ditches on each side. Mike wanted to park the truck facing out so we could put in our appearance and make a quick exit. Not an easy feat under the circumstatnces but it seemed Mike managed just fine or so I thought. I opened my door and gingerly stepped down from the truck only to find something pushing against my leg.

 “Uh Oh” I muttered.

 “What’s wrong? Mike asked tensely, thinking I had managed to injure myself getting out of the truck. Well Ha! The problem this time wasn’t ME being klutzy.

 “You just ran over one of these people’s shrubs.” Did I mention this was a beautifully landscaped driveway? In our quest for a quick get away parking place, we failed to notice the three-foot shrubs.

 “Oh man” Mike mumbled, getting back into the truck. I stood behind to guide. Him. As he pulled away from the shrub, there was an ominous screeching of the shrub running along the bottom edge of the truck. I walked over and checked out the damage.

  “The shrub seems to be fine,” I told Mike. “Hope the truck is ok.”

As we walked up the drive, I was thinking, well one strike against this evening being a success.

  The door was opened by Pat, the smiling, white haired owner. We told her our names and she just beamed.

 “I’m so glad you could make it she said then turned to a group sitting in the formal dining room and called, “hey everyone, this is Mike and Onisha and I am so glad they came.” She proceeded to introduce us to the three couples at the table, then led us to the kitchen to put out the dish I had brought and help us get loaded up on finger foods.

 For me, trying to decide whom to sit with at a party of strangers is traumatic. I mean, how do you know where to sit? Pat took care of that by announcing to the group in the dining room, “these seats are saved for Mike and Onisha” God truly knows our fears and literally holds our hands.

  We were chatting with the other three couples, beginning to relax when Pat announced that everyone should come sit in the living room so that the group could introduce themselves again and tell a little about themselves. Mike and I moved our chairs into the living room, looking forward to getting to know these people but nervous about our turn to share. It’s not like we had exciting lives.

 The first couple told how they came to live in Franklin, and then Sue opened her heart, telling how she had strayed from fellowship with God before they moved into their home. One day she was out and drove past a church. God spoke to her heart and right then and told her to visit that church when they were settled in their home. It was a wonderful testimony.

 Then the next couple spoke telling how God had blessed them and drew them to this community, and then the next one, and on until each had spoken. They all had a leading from the Lord to settle here. I could hardly believe what I was hearing.

 Then it was our turn. I wish I could say that we said something spiritual and wise, but I was so blown away, I could just get out a short bio. Inside, our hearts were praising God for his goodness and amazing provision.

 Pat’s husband finished the group telling how God had worked in their lives and then he suggested we end in prayer and asked Opal if she would mind standing in the middle of the circle. Opal had recently lost her husband and was soon leaving for the winter. As we joined hands to pray, it was all I could do to not start shouting. Opal wasn’t sitting in a chair and we didn’t have our hands on her but it was the same spirit of our Sunday School class in Florida when one of us  “got the chair.”

 As the prayer ended, Mike and I looked at each other and grinned.

“That was awesome’ we said to each other. As we stood talking to one of the couples, my eyes were tearing. Not only had God brought us to a new place he brought us to a new group of friends who love the Lord.

 We started the evening looking for a quick exit. How many times have we missed God’s Divine Appointments, as my friend Wanda would say, because we are looking for a way out, instead of a way in?

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My Love Affair with Chocolate

8 Oct

 

My Take

DiVoran Lites

I’ve been lying on my potato couch listening to Julio Iglesias sing and eating 72% dark chocolate. I can’t tell you if it’s Ghiradelli’s or Lindt, because I broke up both bars and put the squares together in a plastic box. I can tell you it goes down like nothing else I can think of.

Sidelight about Julio I met someone who knew him. She ran a bed and breakfast in England. We stayed there. She and some of her friends were hard-core Julio groupies and had somehow got into riding in his bus whenever he traveled around England. She said he gave her a hug once. I gave her a hug the morning we left, so does that mean…?

But back to chocolate. It all started with Eskimo Pies when our parents owned a small restaurant in Colorado. We called them Milk Nickels. It sounds healthy and the price was good. I was fond of Hersey bars with almonds in them. Then I progressed to peanut clusters. I could eat a bag in an evening along with about six coca-colas. That was when I was a hairdresser in the Los Angeles area. I eventually dropped the cokes, but stuck with the peanut clusters for a long time.

After I had my first child, I had to start thinking about losing weight so I read everything I could get my hands on and kept up with the chocolate. When I discovered dark chocolate, I was in paradise, especially dark chocolate wrapped in foil with almonds.

Eventually though I learned that I could have one dark chocolate after lunch and one after dinner if I didn’t eat pies, cakes, cookies, etc. As long as that was all the dessert I was going to have I figured I could afford good chocolate.

One time my son’s family gave me a tidy little box of Godiva chocolates tied with a ribbon. We were eating out and I offered everyone a piece of the chocolate, but someone said we should save it for after dinner. Why? Your palette works better if your stomach isn’t full. By the time we had eaten I couldn’t bring myself to offer again. I reasoned that they had given me the candy at great cost and it would be ungracious to give them all away. Besides, three out of six of them didn’t like dark chocolate. I didn’t dare take the chance they’d change their minds. They said I could do whatever I wanted with them so I kept them. I’m not proud of that. Most grandmothers would have shared. Anyhow, that’s the way it is with affairs, sometimes you just don’t have the sense God gave a goose. Drug addicts and alcoholics are the same way, or so I hear.

 

Psalm 34:8

 

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The Concert

30 Sep

Sunday Memories

 Judy Wills

 

I always remember there being a piano in the house.  Mother would sometimes sit down and play her favorite hymns from memory, with embellishments.  Occasionally we four would gather around the piano and sing along – Mom playing, Daddy on bass, brother on tenor, me on soprano.  Fond memories.

I started taking piano lessons the day I started first grade, and continued until I graduated from high school.  Now you might have thought that I was some kind of whiz on that instrument – and you would be dead wrong!  Talent?  Yes, I think God gave me some talent.  But not the GIFT.  I always have to have that piece of sheet music in front of my face, or I can’t play anything.

As time went on, I honed my talent, and became fairly accomplished.  My usual fare was church pianist, and occasionally the organist.

Our new Minister of Music wanted to do something new and different – so he organized six of us pianists and we began preparing for a six-piano concert!  One of the local piano stores had a room full of Clavinovas (digital/electronic pianos), and allowed us to practice at the store.

Close to time for the concert, and the pianos were moved to the church.  Up on the stage they went, and our practice time was closer to home.  We played two or three pieces all together – different parts of the song, like an orchestra.  Then we each played a duet with one of the other pianists, then a solo.  We were each to introduce ourselves to the audience and tell something about ourselves – just to get acquainted.

Friday night came – and the first concert.  The sanctuary was nearly full!  And then it became a labor of love – for the instrument and for our God who gave us all the talent to use for His Glory!  A labor of love, but such fun, as well.  My sister-in-law said, “WOW that was Great!!  What a glorious thing to hear SIX pianos played by six talented musicians all at one time!  I can sense God’s hand in this concert and in these musicians.”

I like to think that all those piano lessons have paid off.  I may not have the gift, but what talent I have, I use for God’s Glory.

Oh sing to the LORD a new song, for He has done marvelous things!

His right hand and His holy arm have worked salvation for Him.

 

Psalm 98:1

 

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Sunday Memories-Safe

16 Sep

 

We at the OldThingsRNew blog  are  so pleased  to be growing and adding a new feature, Sunday Memories. We welcome Judy Wills as our very first contributor and hope she makes it a weekly event.

Judy Wills

Safe

“I’m sorry……….but it’s cancer.”

Those words are probably some of the most dreaded in the English language.  I certainly never expected to hear them about myself.  My husband was standing by my side as I took the phone call, and laid his hand on my shoulder as I immediately looked into his face and told him the results.

“It’s very small – it’s probably only been growing a few months – since Christmas perhaps.”

Well, that’s one bright spot in all this – if there can be such a thing in………cancer.

Make the appointment to see the surgeon.  Take time off work to see the surgeon, then schedule the surgery.  My boss was the most understanding, gentle, generous man I could ever want to work with, i.e. take all the time you need.  We can cover you here.  And he and my co-workers did – they bathed me in their prayers.

One of the most difficult things was to tell our daughters – so very far away.   And then to tell my brother and sister-in-law, who is more than a sister to me.  They prayed with us over the phone.

And my prayers took on an almost desperate mantra – “Lord….keep me safe.  Please keep me safe.  Keep Fred safe.  Keep me safe………”

Good Friday came, and I was scheduled to play the organ for the service at the church.   During one of the short devotional thoughts, as I was sitting on the organ bench, it seemed like God took me on His lap and wrapped me up in His arms.  And the word that came into my mind was……. SAFE.  Nothing more.  But I knew everything was going to be okay.  I was SAFE in God’s arms – WE were safe in God’s arms.

It only lasted a few seconds, and I can’t tell you what the Pastor spoke on.  But I’ve never forgotten that feeling of total security and safety and love that God gave me that evening.

12 years and counting.  How’s THAT for being SAFE in God’s arms?

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PPSD and God

8 Sep

Today I am suffering from PPSD or Post Promo Shock Disorder. My brain is numb and  my fingers feel lifeless and lethargic. We just finished three days of giving away Rebekah’s newest e-book Julianne. The promo was exciting  and a lot of books were downloaded. Friends on twitter and Facebook all rallied to spread the word and I am thankful for each one of you. Most of all I am grateful to God. There is no other explanation, we are just not that good at promoting. Hugs……Onisha

 

 

 

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Another Road Trip- El Paso

29 Aug

A Slice of Life

    Bill Lites

I was 17 and I was in love.  At least  I thought I was in love.  I had been going steady with Barbara for many months and we spent every minute we could  together.  We just knew we were a perfect match because our parents approved of our choices; we enjoyed each other’s company and liked the same things.  Then the worst thing we could imagine happened.  Her father’s job transferred him to El Paso, Texas and we were separated.  What were we going to do?  We had to think of something.  But what?

 

Barbara and I talked it over during many phone calls and then I got the bright idea.  With our parent’s approval, I’d ride my 1955 Harley Davidson motorcycle down there and see her.  I’d stay at their house and they would show me the sights.  It was only a 265-mile trip and I figured I could make that in about 4 or 5 hours.  So, why not, I asked my mother?  I’d been safely riding motorcycles since I was 14 and was still in one piece.  This was another one of those teenage trips that I somehow talked my parents into.

When all the details had been worked out, I headed South that Friday morning, on what was then US-85 by way of the southern New Mexico desert.  The trip took me thru the small towns of Los Lunas, Socorro, Truth or Concequences, Hatch, and Las Cruces.  After stopping for lunch and bathroom breaks, it took me longer than I had planned, but I finally made into the big city of El Paso, Texas.

It took me a while, but I finally found Barbara’s house and was welcomed  in by her whole family.  After dinner, Barbara and I took a walk around the neighborhood and she told me what she and parents had planned for the weekend.  Saturday they showed me the many sights of El Paso and then they took me across the border to Juarez, Mexico for a visit to the “Old Mexico” way of life and tourism.  That’s where they put Barbara and me in their “Old Jail” for our picture.

Sunday we all went to their church and then back to their home for a great lunch.  Then it was time for me to head for home.  After we said our good-bys, I reluctantly headed back North on US-85.  With all the excitement of the weekend and the big lunch, I began to get sleepy after a couple of hours.  The constant drumming of the motorcycle engine and whistling of the wind in my ears didn’t help matters.  I did everything I could think of to stay awake, talked to myself, sang to myself, stopped at rest areas to splash cold water on my face, all to no avail.

The next thing I knew, I woke up, on the wrong side of the road, headed for the ditch at 60 mph.  It’s a good thing it was Sunday and traffic was almost non-existent on that stretch of road or I might have ended up as road kill that day.  After I recovered, the incident had pumped enough adrenaline into me to keep me awake for the rest of the trip.  I had a hard time thanking God and my guardian angel enough for saving me from a really bad day.

Psalm 16:8

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Gopher Tortoises and My Biologist Son

3 Aug

I enjoyed the tortoise story so much, I wanted to go ahead and post the next installment. Plus, those days with the grandchildren are great fun but sure do a number on my energy and creativity, so I am happy to take a pass on my blog post this week.

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Nature specials on T. V. are great, but most of all, I love to observe nature in action for myself. I had what I thought was a real adventure with two gopher tortoises the other day. I saw two gopher tortoises in the same few feet of trail and figured they had to be together. I thought maybe the dinner-plate sized one was the mother and the salad-plate sized one who was about to wander into my subdivision and get hurt was her son. I picked up the small one and took it over to the big one.

Later I asked my Biologist son who has studied gopher tortoises since he was at the University of Central Florida if I’d done the right thing. Seems I was all wet in every department, but he graciously gave me the real scoop on the life and times of gopher tortoises.

“The salad plate size is about eight years old and close to the maturity necessary for mating. The bigger one would be from twenty-five to fifty years old.”

The minute I set the small one down the big one started bobbing his head.

“The scientists call it head-bobbing.”

Was it gopher tortoise communication?

“Yes. They recognized that they were of the same species though their ages were vastly different.”

Was it threatening?

“It would be easier to guess about that if we knew the sexes of the two animals. “If it’s a boy the shell is indented at the back, but if it’s a girl the shell is flat.”

I didn’t think to check that.

The head bobbing could have signaled an interest in mating or it could have signaled a territorial dispute. In the field, I’ve seen two tortoises sitting on the apron and bobbing heads for hours.”

The apron?

The sand hill at the opening of the burrow is called the apron. It’s where the mother tortoise lays her clutch of eggs so the sun can warm them and the sand can keep them cool on hot days.

I asked if mother tortoises look after babies when they hatch.

“No, when the baby tortoises hatch they’re soft and about the size of a silver dollar. That’s when they become food for dogs, feral cats, raccoons and birds of prey.

At about six months of age, gopher tortoises dig three to five burrows, over a two-acre area and roam from one to another on a rotating basis.

I didn’t want the little one to go into the subdivision.

“That’s right,” says B. “The biggest danger to any tortoise is a dog. They crush them with their teeth, and bite off any parts they can get to.

So the big one wasn’t the small one’s mother and even if she had been she wouldn’t have cared what happened to him.

That’s right, but hey, Mom, you have a great imagination, and in reality you may have saved the smaller tortoises life, so yes, you did the right thing, you just went the long way around to do it.

I guess it’s great to have a good imagination, but I need to keep in mind that there are things I can’t figure out because I don’t have all the facts.

In other words, we don’t know everything, and having a good imagination doesn’t always help.

I Corinthians 8:3 We never really know enough until we know that God knows it all.

 

 

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Keep Your Eyes On The Road

25 Jul

A Slice of Life

     Bill Lites

 

In the fall of 1954, I was going to school, working part-time as a checker in a super market, and riding a lightweight Harley Davidson 165cc motorcycle all over town.  I was tall and lightweight myself at the time, so the motorcycle suited me real fine.

One day, after school, I was on my way down town to the Harley Davidson shop, when I saw my sister up ahead, walking home from her school with some friends.  Hoping to show off my shiny red motorcycle and get a little attention from the girls, I honked my horn and waved as I passed them.

With my attention on the girls, I hadn’t noticed the dump truck and workmen stopped in the middle of the street making pothole repairs.  There were no caution signs of any kind or flagmen warning traffic of the roadwork being done.  So, the first time I was aware of a problem was, when I looked from the girls and back to the road.  There was the bed of the dump truck right ahead of me.  I didn’t have time to think.  I just reacted.  I threw my weight and the motorcycle to the left, my left foot hit the pavement with a slap, and then I pushed myself and the motorcycle back up with my left leg.  This all happened in a split second as the motion carried me and the motorcycle down, under the corner to the bed of the dump truck, and back up on two wheels.

I pulled over to the curb, slowed to a stop and just sat there trying to stop shaking and catch my breath.  I couldn’t believe what had just happened.  If I had held my attention on the girls for one second longer, I would have run right into the bed of that dump truck and that would not have been a pretty sight, and I wouldn’t be here today telling this story.

I believe that Someone bigger than you and me has my life and breath in His hands and has been guiding me and watching over me from the day I was born.  I don’t know why He has been so good to me but, I thank Him,  God of the Angel Armies.

 

 

John 10:28

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Thyme On My Hands

9 Jul

My Take

DiVoran Lites

My mother, grandmother and even Dad were all good cooks, but they didn’t use herbs. When I became a full-time homemaker, I decided to experiment and my family liked them. Now, I’m learning to grow my own.

Recently I harvested basil, rosemary, oregano, cilantro, chives and of course thyme. Thyme is a small miracle. It adds great flavor to food, it’s a survivor, an antioxidant, and an antiseptic. I love the aroma that lets me know it’s around. The other herbs fit all together in small packets for the freezer, but the thyme filled a colander all by itself.             

Hey, there’s an idea, maybe I have plenty of clock time too. What would happen if, instead of indiscriminately giving it away or throwing it away I ask God to guide me in its use? I’m sure if I put him in charge, the housework will get done, I’ll have minutes and hours to listen and I can develop healthier habits. Hobbies, weeding and mending can still happen. Maybe if I do what I feel is intuitively right for me, I will discover the things God created me to do. Maybe I’ll be more at peace with myself, and more effective in every way.

I spread handfuls of thyme over a cookie sheet and froze it, and then I made packages of  it  to throw into stews and vegetables. When I prayed about individual choices in clock time, I began to feel more settled, more satisfied, and eventually more peaceful. I believe I’ve become more effective in every way.

Check out this snippet from The Message Bible: …”if you’re content to simply be yourself, your life will count for plenty.” (Matthew 23:12)

Herbs: Thyme, oregano and rosemary

Herbs: Thyme, oregano and rosemary (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Note from Onisha: I think thyme is one of my favorite herbs too but I have a question, what constitutes a sprig of thyme?

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Lessons From a Tufted Titmouse

25 Jun

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

This morning I heard a bird call that has become familiar over the past few days. It was a Tufted Titmouse alarm call. It sounds like a scrub jay call with a tweet on the end.

Our son, W. D.,  was here the other day and explained all this to us. He says it’s an alarm call that all the birds understand, and when they hear it, they gather around to see what kind of threat is imminent. In jungle movies, the air falls silent when danger lurks. In Florida when the Tufted Titmouse gets anxious, everybody gets anxious.

Going into the house, W. D. practiced the Tufted Titmouse call. Sheees, tweet, shees tweet. The cat heard him and, hunkered down to slink away fast. She ran into the dining room and peeked around the corner trying to figure out what was going on. W. D. and I decided it wasn’t just a bird alarm, but a universal animal alarm as well.

This morning I watched the tufted titmice through my binoculars. I didn’t really need binoculars but they bring the birds up close. I watched the two small birds doing touch and goes for a while; then the noisy one attached its feet to a branch and started shimmying his wings. He sheesh-tweeted frantically. The other flew down and put something in his beak and the light went on in my brain.

In this case, the alarm was coming from a baby Tufted Titmouse that thought he was going to starve to death between one seed and the next.

It reminds me of the world we live in where you can’t get away from the fear.

It also reminds me of a person I worked with once who had a talent for getting everyone all worked up over nothing.

But I don’t like being tense and upset, so I’ve decided that I’d seek the peace of God which passes understanding. Philippians 4:7

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