Before God

**With nods to my friend Greybeard… if you shed an easy tear… well, fair warning.**

One of the secrets that I mentioned earlier has come to pass.

Remember last year I talked about Ms Samantha and her potential illness?  Remember that she had written a blog post of her own about that life threatening sickness and how she was dealing with it?

Since that time things have changed greatly for Sam.

She became a senior in high school with only a single class remaining so she took some time off and studied on her own to pass that course under tutelage of a friend. (The friend is a registered homeschooler so it’s all legal and such).  She completed her "Senior Year” in a little under three months.   When Sam wrote her post she was enrolled in a magnet school.  She fought to get into that school and then fought through Advanced Placement courses.  She almost invariably made straight A’s.  The chick even learned Latin.

She got a job and began saving money while finishing school.  She bought herself a computer and began saving for something else.

Four months ago her boyfriend moved away.  He joined the Air Force and went to basic and then to technical training.  They have missed each other desperately and have spent time on the phone and on online chat whenever they could.  They used video chat for some things so that they could spend some time together but it wasn’t the same and it wasn’t enough for either of them.  Two days ago he was allowed home on leave… they’ve been inseparable.

Over the last year Sam has been through test after test in far away places to diagnose her illness.  Her parents have driven her to medical centers all over the state.  Last month, after nearly a year of tests she received her final diagnosis.

She is fine.  They are treating her symptoms separately and as minor inconveniences and have ruled out anything serious.

Today, I stood with friends and family and with Ms Samantha in a private ceremony as she was married before God to the man that she deeply and dearly loves.  I was privileged and sincerely honored to serve as a witness to the marriage.

She is 18 and some would say, too young and unprepared for marriage.  I say…  This child has set goals and fought for them and proven herself.  She has, literally, faced death and dealt with it with grace and aplomb. So much so that many never knew she was ill.  She is strong in her faith and in her relationship with God.  She is fond of reminding folks that she earned that white dress. She is a woman. An amazing, shy, bright, sweet, honest, devout Christian woman.  She is more capable than many women twice her age.  She is more capable than some women will ever be.

My only prayer is this:

God help the poor boy.  He knows not where he treads.

 

Celebrate with them this young life full of miracles:Jacob and Samantha

Read

This post was written by Mrs Jinksto and me as an email to some friends who are facing tough times.  I’ve asked them if I could share it here because I thought it was a neat bit of writing that covers an important idea.  It starts off with a simple answer to a hard question:

Read your bible.  Sounds easy.  It’s not.  Sure, we all read our bibles in church when someone is reading a verse or three to us… but think about the last time you sat down and read a whole chapter? There’s so much in the Bible that never gets preached and so much that never gets studied. There are tools to help you figure your problems out.  There are solutions to problems that you never knew you had. You know all of this but it’s easy to forget.

We’re not telling you to study your Bible here.  You should, of course.  Dig into the details and understand exactly what it’s telling you and why. That’s good.  It’s very good. Sometimes though we’d rather pick up a trashy novel and just zone out for a while.  You can do that with the Bible too… zone out… disappear into the story.

Sometimes you just need to read it without all of the work. Start at the beginning of a chapter and just read. Enjoy the flow of the words.  The way verses flow one into the next.  See the overall story and not just bits of wisdom in verses to be aptly applied.  The stories in the Bible are beautiful tales of wondrous things that really happened. The words and phrases that it uses are poetic and… well, beautiful. As a writer, even one that’s not very good, I hate using the same word over and over in a single letter but in this case "beautiful" applies in more circumstances than not.  I honestly don’t know how to describe the Bible without using those words… beautiful, wonderful, glorious.

Some of our favorite books?  Psalms, of course. Proverbs is awesome and the most beautiful book: Luke.  Matthew is wonderful if a little hard to understand at times and Romans provides a path to salvation that is very enlightening. It doesn’t matter though.  Pick any book that you like.  Read it.

We have written thousands of words in these emails trying to share things that we have seen work.  Things that we know will help you in the troubled times ahead.  We’ve seen parents who have devoted every waking moment of their lives to their children.  They’ve made hard choices and given them the best advice that they could.  They have agonized over those choices, and begged shaking and crying on their knees before God that they be shown the right decisions.  They have cried tears of love for those children. They have cried tears of rage and tears of sorrow because they could not see clearly how to guide them at times. They have lamented the mistakes that they made and prayed to God that they never make them again.  We know this because we have seen the tears.  We have heard the prayers and we have prayed some of the same prayers and shed some of the same tears for them and for their children.

And yet, if you read the Bible you will find that this dedication and love is not new to the world.  Here is the first Chapter of Proverbs, It teaches something that we’ve all been trying to teach children for years.  It teaches wisdom and right… in 33 verses God spells out clearly what has taken mortal men and women a lifetime of teaching to share.  Read it with us… we’ve removed the verse numbers, skip the words you don’t know, just read it, not as verses but as the story that it was intended to be.

Proverbs, Chapter 1
The proverbs of Solomon son of David, king of Israel: for attaining wisdom and discipline; for understanding words of insight; for acquiring a disciplined and prudent life, doing what is right and just and fair; for giving prudence to the simple, knowledge and discretion to the young–  let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance– for understanding proverbs and parables, the sayings and riddles of the wise. The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and discipline.

Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction and do not forsake your mother’s teaching. They will be a garland to grace your head and a chain to adorn your neck. My son, if sinners entice you, do not give in to them. If they say, "Come along with us; let’s lie in wait for someone’s blood, let’s waylay some harmless soul; let’s swallow them alive, like the grave, and whole, like those who go down to the pit; we will get all sorts of valuable things and fill our houses with plunder; throw in your lot with us, and we will share a common purse"– my son, do not go along with them, do not set foot on their
paths; for their feet rush into sin, they are swift to shed blood. How useless to spread a net in full view of all the birds! These men lie in wait for their own blood; they waylay only themselves!  Such is the end of all who go after ill-gotten gain; it takes away the lives of those who get it.

Wisdom calls aloud in the street, she raises her voice in the public squares; at the head of the noisy streets she cries out, in the gateways of the city she makes her speech: "How long will you simple ones love your simple ways? How long will mockers delight in mockery and fools hate knowledge? If you had responded to my rebuke, I would have poured out my heart to you and made my thoughts known to you. But since you rejected me when I called and no one gave heed when I stretched out my hand,  since you ignored all my advice and would not accept my rebuke,  I in turn will laugh at your disaster; I will mock when calamity overtakes you–  when calamity overtakes you like a storm, when disaster sweeps over you like a whirlwind, when distress and trouble overwhelm you.  "Then they will call to me but I will not answer; they will look for me but will not find me. Since they hated knowledge and did not choose to fear the LORD,  since they would not accept my advice and spurned my rebuke,  they will eat the fruit of their ways and be filled with the fruit of their schemes.  For the waywardness of the simple will kill them, and the complacency of fools
will destroy them;  but whoever listens to me will live in safety and be at ease, without fear of harm."

In Proverbs 16 these same ideas are mentioned; here are verses 20-24:

20 Whoever gives heed to instruction prospers, and blessed is the one who trusts in the LORD.
21 The wise in heart are called discerning,  and gracious words promote instruction.
22 Prudence is a fountain of life to the prudent, but folly brings punishment to fools.
23 The hearts of the wise make their mouths prudent, and their lips promote instruction.
24 Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.

"Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones."  How beautiful and meaningful and direct.  There is such beauty in the bible that we miss when we study too closely. Study too, always study and understand but sometimes you need to stop and see the whole story and just read. It is divine, and grand, and lofty, and sublime, and yes it is beautiful.  It is all of those things and it is the Word of God.

Christmas in Poverty

Some of my best Christmas memories come from being a child.  A child in a very poor family.  I’ve been there.  I’ve eaten meals provided by others in bags surreptitiously left on a porch when no one was home.

I thought about that this year, as we bought meals for those in need at Christmas.  The local church outreach organization calls it “meal in a bag”.  We were given a list of 9 items that supposedly make a Christmas meal.  The idea is to provide an entire Christmas meal to a family who might not otherwise have one.  So, you buy the 9 items for about $30 or so; they’re split into bags and given to families who need them.  It doesn’t matter that they are not members of our church or, even, that they are Christian.  They simply need to be in a position to need help and ask for it. That’s Christian outreach and it’s a good thing.

As we planned to buy these 9 things and laid it beside our own shopping list for Christmas dinner the difference was astounding.  God has been very gracious to us over the years and we’re in a position to put on an amazing meal for every holiday.  I worry sometimes that the kids coming to my house on holidays are getting the wrong idea about what those holidays are actually about.  We’ve worked hard and God has rewarded that work with abundance.  We use that abundance to glorify Him but sometimes… sometimes I wonder if we’re doing it for the right reasons or, at the very least, sending the wrong message.

To “fix” this we’ve decided that this year our Christmas meal will be exactly what we gave away.  There will be 9 items and nothing more. They will be the same 9 items that were on the CRO meal in a bag list.  Depending on the number of folks that join us for this day of celebrating Christ’s life and works we will double or triple the order (if we’re feeding three families we’ll need more, right?) but it’ll be all of the same stuff.  Instead of one canned ham we’ll have three… whatever.

I’m not doing this out of some misdirected “be more poor” attitude or to glorify myself by submitting to a “substandard” meal.  God has granted us amazing gifts and we celebrate those every other day of the year.  I’m doing it because we don’t want to teach a fallacy to the children (or adults) that come here and celebrate with us.  The fallacy that you can’t enjoy a perfectly happy and joyful celebration of Christ with other than the best food you can afford. 

I was reminded today that Christ himself spent a lot of time working over food.  The bible calls on us in several places, to celebrate prosperity and to share his Word over food.  It reminds us to invite sinners, the lame, the blind, the crippled.  It reminds us that what we have should be used for His glory. 

I intend to do all of those things but I intend to do it with the tools that he has given us to use for others.  We’ll have a beautiful if not extravagant meal.  We’ll have friends and fellows to share it with.  We’ll talk about what Christmas means to us and share how He has led our lives.  We’ll just do it over a canned ham, canned vegetables and a box of cake mix rather than three fried turkey’s and 27 pies.  I think that’s fair, no?

My Uncle Butch declared himself a “buzzard Baptist”. He knew every cook in the church and could preselect meals at the church based on what he knew of the people that created the food. He even knew the individual dishes, plates and crockpots owned by members of the church to help him identify who cooked what.  At any church function he could be counted on to lead you to the best of the best. As Mrs. Jinksto and I are exploring a new Church home I find that much of what he taught me is still there.  We’ve only been attending this church for a few months and became members just last week.   In that time I’ve already identified enough of the best cooks to be able to pick out a really nice plate at any church function. 

That’s not to say that the ONLY thing about this church is the food.  Not at all.  It’s an amazing place with wonderful, thoughtful people.  I simply prefer to meet and talk with those folks over amazing food.  It puts us on even ground and gives us a chance to share the most basic of human needs with one another while celebrating our love of God.  Food is important but we want to remind ourselves that it’s not the only thing that’s important.

As always during the holidays our doors are open to everyone.  If you’re spending Christmas with just your immediate family or alone (or know someone who is) then, please, feel free to stop by and share ours.  You don’t have to bring anything and you don’t have to dress up. You don’t even have to be Christian as long as you respect our faith. Just bring yourself.  That will be plenty.   

jinksto@gmail.com for directions.

As for the menu:

1 Canned Ham
1 Large Box of Cornbread Mix
1 Large Box of Stuffing
1 Large Box of instant Potato’s (or rice)
1 Large Can of Cranberry Sauce
1 Large Can of Green Beans
1 Large Box of Jell-O
1 Package of Drink Mix: tea, juice, etc.
1 Box of Cake Mix and Can of Icing

Bon Appetit!
If you don’t think that jinksto can create an amazing, blessed, celebratory meal out of that and a bag of flour you aint read enough of my blog yet.

It was the best of times…

… it was the worst of times.*  Charles Dickens finishes that thought with a long paragraph that continues the theme but those two more famous lines from the opening paragraph of A Tale of Two Cities really describe what this year has been like.  It has been exactly that…the best of times and the worst of times.

I was joking on Facebook today and said this (typo’s and poor math skills included):

This has been one of the worst years of my life. Seriously, top five worst. It has also been the best year if my life . Sometimes it managed to be both in the same week. Its been crazy and glorious. The cool thing is that with only 21 days left in the year God had granted us two more amazing gifts to finish it off. If next year works out this way I may finally have to admit ti being bipolar.

Later this morning, I told a friend, “You know, even if I’m not bipolar I might need Lithium just to deal with my life.”

Many of you know that I work for a big bank and you’ve seen the news about things happening at those banks. Layoffs, cut backs, protestors… the list is endless. Those things have impacted me deeply.  There have been medical issues, job issues, family issues and other frustrations but let’s be clear that this post isn’t meant to be a jinksto pity party.  Sure, things have been hard but, as the title of this post declares, they have been awesome as well. 

For every disaster that we’ve suffered (or nearly suffered), God has granted us an amazing reward.  I’m a generally upbeat and positive (though stoic) person which is why I haven’t taken the time to recount all of the negative stuff that’s been going on in my life.  I accept challenges for what they are and work at resolving them.  Sometimes there’s nothing that I can do about them but I still try to do the best I can.

By the same token I accept God’s graces with humility and sincere thanks (most of the time) and have a lot to be thankful for this year. 

That’s not just hyperbole; I really do.  The glorious rewards that He has granted us have been life changing events and completely undeserved.  They have led us to stare in wonder at our lives and all that He has given us and think that we’re not worthy of that much love.

There is much going on in my life now that I’m not able to share openly but by the end of the year events will have transpired in such a way to allow me to share my joy with you. For now I’ve made promises to keep secrets.  Promises to people that I care deeply about so I’ll have to wait until January to tell the whole tale of ecstasy and woe.

I don’t mean for this to be a teaser post either. I simply want to document my joy this Christmas season.

As we close in on the end of the year I can’t help but look at my life and think, just for a second, “wow… this is awesome.”

If I don’t find time to post again this year I want to say, “Merry Christmas my Internet friends.”  May your life be as joyful this season as mine continues to be.

 

 

 

* Thanks for the title idea Mathew… it really has been both. Smile

… mightier than the sword.

I make pens… you know, writing instruments… as in, mightier than the sword?

It all started rather innocently.  You see, I bought a lathe.  Nothing lavish, just the cheapest full size lathe that Harbor Freight sells.  But I didn’t even buy that… I bought mine used off of craigslist for $80.  It’s a trashy thing gloriously painted in the ugliest green ever mixed accidentally [ref] … because no one would mix that color on purpose [/ref].  The lathe came with a set of knives of, essentially, the same lineage.  But it all works and it works fairly well for what it is.

I didn’t particularly need a lathe.  I didn’t have any projects that required one and had none planned.  In fact, at the time I was searching for hunting leases and this ad popped up like they sometimes do.  Completely unrelated to anything that I might have typed in as a search string but interesting enough to click on anyway.  I had always sorta wanted a lathe and this was a really good deal so I wandered off and came home with a new (to me) lathe. 

199140_10150120182512767_712417766_6378286_578507_nOver several weeks I played with the thing making various trinkets on it as I found instructions or ideas on the internet.  I made a couple of clunky little bowls that folks just loved but that I didn’t like at all.  One of them isn’t even complete because I gave up on it but my wife keeps it on a shelf.  The wood is beautiful so it’s at bowlleast interesting… it just sucks as a bowl; looking more like something Picasso might have created in a drunken daze [ref]…without all the naked people of course [/ref].

Finding myself wanting as an artiste de bol I turned to other projects and eventually stumbled into making pens.

lathe_penIt’s a simple process really; cut the blanks, drill a hole through the center, glue in a metal tube and then carve and finish it on the lathe.  The actual lathe work can take anywhere from ten minutes to ten hours depending on a lot of factors but mostly on my mood and how much I like the person for whom I’m making the pen.   Lately I’ve been blessed with making pens for people that I love a lot… it takes a lot longer but saves on wood… Smile

Real pen smiths can cut a pen to almost finished state with just the knives.  I’m nowhere near that good and have to rely on a LOT of sanding and other manipulation to get a pen to that stage.  Still, they come out looking at least usable… most of the time.

Once the lathe work and finishing are complete I press all of the metal bits together with a vise until something finally resembling a pen emerges.  This bit is about as hard as assembling a jigsaw puzzle… with numbered pieces… and instructions.IMG_7160

The pens come as a kit of metal parts but no wood.  I can either cut my own blanks (the wood bits) or buy pre-cut ones at the woodworking store.  I usually buy pre-cut ones but only because it gives me a right-sized blank of exotic wood without having to cut up my larger, more expensive, pieces of stock or raw wood.

Developing the skill to make pens has only taken a few months and a lot of practice.  Practice that makes pens [ref] … practice that also makes lots of mangled and crushed parts until you learn what the gently in “gently press pieces together with a vise” means. We don’t talk about those…[/ref]  This resulted in a glass jar sitting on my bar full of various pen styles made of exotic woods.  Some of them are rough or they don’t quite work right but most of them are pretty to look at.  If someone admires one for too long they’re likely to leave with it.   I just think it’s really cool that someone might actually use something that I’ve made with my hands.

I always worry about the quality failuresof the pens and hope that folks will tell me when something breaks but many won’t bother.  Some, I suppose, just don’t want to hurt my feelings.  I’ve considered wrapping them in a message that says, “this pen is broken, when you figure out how it’s broken let me know!” or “I know that this pen is too heavy for you to use in a normal fashion.  When you figure it out too let me know and I’ll make you one that’s more perfect.” At least then I might get a tiny bit of negative feedback.

I never sell my pens.  A few folks have donated money for photo (3)me to buy parts and such but only after I flatly refused payment.  I usually only make specific pens for folks that I like a lot.  I make them from high quality pen kits and use the best wood that I can find.   A few folks even ask for spares so that they can gift them to others.  That’s always amazing to me and I’m always happy to help. 

My favorite was created as a retirement gift.  I sweated over that one for a couple of weeks trying to find the perfect kit and the perfect wood.   I spent hours working and reworking the pen and finally discarded it and started over.  It was important enough for the person asking me to make the pen that I thought it deserved the best work I could do.  I eventually came up with something that I liked and then before I could ship the pen I made a different one for the person who asked.  I thought they should both have a gift on retirement day…. you don’t get there alone.

I’ve been wanting to do a series on making pens but I’m not sure that I’m at a place where I feel confident that my skills will add notably to the wealth of information out there on the topic.  Maybe soon.  This post was originally written as an introduction to that series…

313411_10150305982602767_712417766_7843614_1702400973_n

I saw…

 

I knelt beside a tiny brook in Uwharrie National Forest this morning and watched it slowly, slowly push past the rocks.  The stream is nearly dry but continues to trickle along day after day.  Small crawfish [ref]Or more properly “crayfish”, I think, in this land of foreigners that is North Carolina.[/ref]  dart around under the rocks in the shallow water.  Water bugs that look more like spiders scatter over the surface.  They zip along in all directions at amazing speeds like tiny jetskiers on a busy Saturday at the lake.

I rise more stiffly than I’d like and continue walking along the creek.  My companion, WillAtHome, is nearby paralleling my track through the trees.  We are a mile or more from the nearest road.

Huge oaks tower over us.  They are mixed with poplar, pines and other trees that I can’t identify.  It’s a cool day in early fall and the sky through the trees is perfectly blue. 

We move through the woods watching for signs of deer but finding something much greater.  When we talk we talk in hushed tones.  The deep woods seem almost sacred to me here.  There is beauty in every crevice.  Amazing intricacy and detail in every little corner.  Beautiful and huge spider webs stretch between some of the trees and on several occasions I backtrack a bit to go around them; more to preserve them than for any fear of spiders. It is, for lack of a more perfect word, perfect [ref]perfectly so![/ref]. At any time you can find all stages of the cycle of life around you in the forest like a single frame from a “Nature” documentary writ large.

Here among the trees is where I find God.  Here in the quiet of the forest is where I hear Him best.

The leaves rustle underfoot and branches snap as we tread on them with heavy boots.  There’s no need to be quiet; we’re not hunting as much as hunting a place to hunt. 

We move through the woods slowly, trying to see every detail, every sign of deer.  I find an old can that’s nearly rusted away laying beside a pile of rocks.  The pile is unnatural and is old.  We discuss its origins but can’t really guess.  Maybe some farmer a hundred years ago tossed the rocks there as he cleared his field to plant food for his family or maybe it was a hastily constructed defensive position built a hundred years earlier.  Still again, maybe it’s an old Indian sweat lodge built a hundred years before the civil war.  Whatever* it was, now it’s just another pile of rocks and doesn’t hold our interest long.   The forest is always moving, growing, changing but always, always still and peaceful[ref]one might even say that it’s perfect[/ref].

Later, after I’ve returned home, I walk through the house.  Mrs. Jinksto has all the windows open and the inside air is cooler than normal.   She is laying on the couch reading a book with the cool outside air gently flowing through the window behind her.  Because she’s reading she has her glasses on which I think makes her look cute.  It’s a lazy Saturday and she’s dressed for it with sweats, bare feet and a long sleeve t-shirt. I realize again how much I love her. 

George Straight sings a song called “I Saw God Today” about a man who sees God in the miracle of life as it struggles into existence in the smallest ways, every day.

All in all, it’s been a perfect [ref]there’s that word again[/ref] day and I’m sure that I saw God today.  More than once.

With people who know…

I was in Toronto last week for three days.  Long hard days of work in a big city.  A very big, very progressive city.

We had been talking about doing a Gumbo on Saturday but coming home late Friday night I was almost ready to cancel.  I was tired, scattered and beat.  We decided that we’d keep the Gumbo but pare the guest list to just the Pastor at a church that we’ve been visiting and like a lot and people “who know”.

In all we had 10 adults and about that many kids.  It sounds like a lot but these are folks that “know” so there’s just not that much for us to do.

They know not to ask if they can get a drink out of the cooler or the refrigerator and they know where the oven is if they need it.

They know to correct hooligan children before they hurt someone…whether they own that particular child or not.

They know where the liquor cabinet is… and the gun cabinet.

They know where the ferrets live and that kids aren’t allowed in there. 

They know that the dog might knock you over with loving and that the cats will probably scratch you.  Especially if you’re under 4 feet tall.

They know not to let the pets out the door… even the kids.

They know our religion and they know that there will be a prayer before we eat.

Most of all, they know where the bathroom is.

These are the folks we love.  The ones that hang out rather than party.  They are the ones that we call when we need help and they’re the ones that we call when we just want to be with friends without all of the extra work.

The result, is a comfortable afternoon sitting around a fire chatting about the various and sundry topics that the group is familiar with.  Online games, food, hunting, fishing, religion, politics, computers, work… whatever.

We got out the “big pot”, a massive cast iron thing, and put it over an open fire.  Ingredients for gumbo were dumped in through the evening and we ended with a feast.

I wasn’t particularly happy (I’m the worst about criticizing my own cooking) with the result but others seemed to enjoy it enough.

As the day progressed a mason jar of “apple pie” moonshine was produced and passed around.  No one bothered to look for a glass opting instead to just sip from the jar in true southern tradition.  No one took more than a sip or two… well, almost no one; but we still love her greedy little self anyway… and everyone enjoyed the community of the shared jar.

As darkness crept in I lit the torches around the patio and the conversation continued.  Slowly folks wandered away to their homes and left me sitting on the patio alone. 

Mrs. Jinksto joined me after a while and we sat on the patio in the dark counting stars together in the cool evening air as the fire died down to a soft glow. Perfect.

Just another guy…

 

A friend posted this link on Facebook.  A random comment on that post reminded me of this story.

One night while I was in the military I was traveling through an airbase.  I stopped in at a local bar for dinner.  Their tables were full so I took a spot at the bar to eat.

While I was eating a man in civilian clothes sat next to me.  A few minutes later someone came by, congratulated him and bought the man a beer.  I mostly ignored it.  As the two stood there talking a second man walked up and bought the man another beer.  They walked away and we started chatting as I finished my meal.

While we were talking, another guy came by and congratulated the man before offering to buy him a beer.

When he left I grinned and asked the guy if he was getting married. 

“Nah,” he chuckled and said, “I work on the base, we had a plane go down today and they just wanted to say thanks”. 

“What? Did you pack the parachute?”, I asked laughing.

“No, I’m just the guy that inspects the ejection seats…”

Oh. Right. Cool.

I offered to buy him a beer too but he said he had plenty and slid one of his down the bar to me.

 

No moral… just a story…

Amazing Grace…

My favorite song is amazing grace as sung by my mother on beautiful spring days at the kitchen sink. 

Mom wasn’t a singer.  I mean, she wasn’t horrible but it’s not something that she normally did and she didn’t sing in the choir at church.  She sang with the congregation when we all did but, normally… she didn’t sing. 

That made those occasions when I got to listen to her special.  Maybe it was the weather or a very special day for her. Maybe she was just in a good mood on those days.  Whatever it was, I was glad when it happened.

She would start slowly, singing a part of the first verse and then starting over until she got it just the way she wanted.  Then, in the slow steady gait of Amazing Grace the rest of the song would flow through our home.  Dishes clinked as she washed them and you could occasionally hear the song change as she moved about the kitchen.

As I stood in the living room hidden by a wall I listened to her strong, clear voice sing the song.  She sang it acapella, of course, and she sang every word with heartfelt meaning.  She sang all six versus (you didn’t even know there WERE six verses did you?) in a slow steady rhythm that embraced you with warmth and love.

LeAnne Rimes

 

It was peaceful standing there listening to her celebrate her life with God as she went about the chores of life.  A special moment with her (even if she didn’t know I was there) that I get to keep as mine alone. It anchored that spot in time for me so that I can go back there any time and listen to her sing for me.

I love the song.  I loved my mama singing it more.

Redneck Wine Glasses

Note: If you actually came here looking for how to make Redneck Wine Glasses… scroll all the way to the bottom.

Being part of a community is kinda cool.  If I don’t post for a while folks like Greybeard over a PitchPull will send me a reminder that I need to get on the ball.  Which… he did this week.

In truth, I’ve been really busy at work (yah yah yah) and have been living it up when I’m not working.  But, more importantly, I haven’t been able to find anything to write about.  I mean, since I last posted on July 9th I’ve been to the beach for the first time in years, I’ve been to India (Mumbai AND Delhi), I’ve been to Singapore, I’ve been to New Jersey (hey, it made a list!) and I’ll soon be off to Toronto and then NYC… just completely boring.

Anywho… When I can’t find something to write about I sometimes I read through all of my old posts to help generate ideas for new ones or I’ll look through the list of “draft” posts that I use to store ideas for later.  There are some actual “drafts” in there that are almost complete posts but there are others that are just a title and while some of them are cute double entendre’s (“Hunting for Suburbanites” anyone?) I can’t really recall what they were meant to be about.  Nothing there.

While clicking around the admin portion of the site I noticed a statistics package that I haven’t looked at in ages.  I clicked over and remembered that this package will tell me what search terms people used before they landed on my page.  Some of them make no sense at all but a few are expected.  “Ladies Handguns” is always a big hit and it usually finds my series on the same topic.  However, the largest number of hits come from my “Redneck Wine Makin’ Guide” which strangely (to me) is one of the post popular pages on the site… and it’s not even a blog post! 

The second most popular search phrase is “How to Make Redneck Wine Glasses” which, appears nowhere on this site.  And, we’re not talking about one or two here.  We’re talking about literally hundreds of hits.  That’s hundreds of people that were disappointed by my website and that just makes me sad.  Ok, not really… but “redneck wine glasses”?  I consider myself a fairly well practiced redneck in most areas but even I had never heard of these things so off I go to question Google on the topic.  What I found is a completely weird phenomenon that, well, honestly, the Redneck in me finds pretty darn cool.  So, after hours and hours of research and as a public service to those wayward souls who get marooned on my part of the interwebs here’s what yah gotta do:

 

Making Redneck Wine Glasses

The Original RedNek Wine Glass1) Get you a glass candlestick holder
2) Get you a Mason jar (ok, Ball works too for non-purists)
3) Hotglue 1 to 2
4) Enjoy.

 

 

 

You’re welcome.