A Homemade Christmas

At times I write things that don't get published for a while, if ever. This is one of those stories waiting for a magazine or anthology home. For now, it makes a good blog post. 

I can’t remember the year, exactly, but it was sometime in the mid 1960’s. My family lived in Nigeria, West Africa because my parents were stationed there by the Christian mission they served. Nigeria was not an easy place to be in the 1960’s.

That decade started out hopeful when on October 1, 1960, Nigeria was granted its independence from Great Brittan. But hope crumbled in the subsequent years as tribal infighting increased and rumblings of war began. This fighting culminated in a tragic civil war known as the Biafran War. My family lived there during all of this—my physician father, my nurse mother, my two sisters, one brother, and me.

Like other missionaries, my parents usually brought with them, tucked away in the missionary barrels with all of their other personal items, at least some of the presents they would need for the various occasions over the three years they would be in Africa. But they assumed they would be able to also purchase other toys and other items in country. Nigeria’s larger cities like Lagos and Ibadan had British stores with many of the goods we were accustomed to in America. Most Christmases, my parents and other missionaries made trips to Ibadan and purchased gifts for each other and us children, which they gave us along with the one or two things they had brought with them. But that year, travel was restricted due to the unrest all around us.

What was a parent to do in a situation like that? 

Nonetheless, I remember that Christmas as one of the grandest I ever had. I woke up that Christmas morning to what seemed like a living room full of new toys! It felt to me like I had received more toys than I had ever received at any one time in my life. It was a magical morning; Christmas magic, I suppose. I can still remember looking around the room and seeing a new item of one kind or another seemingly everywhere. And what were these gifts? How had my parents solved the problem of not being able to travel and purchase gifts for their children?

That year, my parents had brought only a set of plastic dishes with them in their missionary barrels as their gift to my sisters and me. Those plastic dishes were all they had to offer their three daughters. Oh, they had brought other gifts, but these had already been given in the previous two years on the field. This year, the last year of their term, they had only one set of plastic dishes left. I do not know what they had thought they would be able to do but I assume they had planned on giving one of us those dishes and buying other gifts for the other two of us. But as it was, that set of plastic dishes was all they had. So, they improvised and made gifts, or had them made actually.

That morning before my bright, wide-open child’s eyes, I saw laying around my living room in various places; a small wooden sink and kitchen cabinet combination, a small wooden refrigerator with doors on hinges that opened and shut and shelves inside, a wooden stove with a door that opened just like a real stove, a miniature wooden table and four small chairs. These, it turned out had been made by the hospital carpenter using my dad’s design and then hand painted by my father. Sitting on the table were the plastic dishes and laying on the floor near these were three aprons, a small tablecloth, napkins, dish cloths, and a hot pad all made by my seamstress mother with material she had bought at the local market.

The gifts were for all three of us—both my sisters and me—but that didn’t matter to me at all. It all seemed so marvelous! My sisters and I shared a room, anyway. All three of us slept in one double bed. I, of course, got the middle since I was the middle sister. After we moved our toys to our room from the living room, we had every little girl’s dream of a bedroom. Our three baby dolls already had their spots in the room. We had one small wooden cradle that all the dolls laid in. That didn’t seem strange to us. They shared that bed just like we shared our bed. But now we had a table and four chairs so the dolls could sit at our little table instead of sleep in the cradle if we wanted to place them there. Against one wall now sat the toy kitchen sink-cabinet combination, stove, and refrigerator and in front of that we placed the table complete with a tablecloth on it. We stored the dish towels, and aprons on one of the shelves inside the cabinet. The dishes could be found anywhere—in the cabinet, in the refrigerator, in the sink, or on the table.

I didn’t feel like I was in a small mission house in a war-torn African country. I felt as though I was in the richest palace in the world. Surely no little girl anywhere had as many wonderful kitchen toys as my sisters and me!

 

 

Thanksgiving Devotion

Thanksgiving will be here in just a few weeks. My co-writer and I have written devotional books for pretty much every occurrence throughout the year since we have a "Glimpses of God" series that covers winter, spring, summer, and fall. In addition we have a holiday devotional titled,  Glimpses of the Savior that is currently on a blog tour and on sale for .99 (Kindle version). I thought I'd share a Thanksgiving devotion from that book:

You walk into a kitchen where Thanksgiving dinner is being prepared. Or perhaps you are the one preparing the meal and you walk back in after having stepped out for a minute. You are suddenly engulfed by the delicious aroma that fills the room. A turkey seasoned with sage and rosemary is baking in the oven. Bread bakes on the shelf of another part of the oven along with broccoli casserole with cheese melting in it, and hot pecan pie. Potatoes ready to mash and simmering gravy rest on top of the stove. On the countertop are a cranberry salad and a cold pumpkin pie with whipped cream next to it, waiting to be smoothed on top. You peer at the food through the oven window; the turkey is sizzling, the broccoli casserole is bubbling and the bread and pecan pie are browned to perfection.

Your mouth waters at the delightful smells, but still you are left only imagining how delicious these foods really are. As wonderful as these foods look, and as enticing as these smells are, you need to taste the food to truly appreciate it. These other sensations pale in comparison to what you experience when you sit down at the table for dinner and actually taste the food. Only then, when you put a piece of warm bread or a fork full of cheesy broccoli in your mouth, do you really know how good it is.

King David knew this. Well, he may not have known about our American Thanksgiving turkey dinners, and the foods that made his mouth water may have been things we have never eaten, but he knew that tasting was the best way to see how good something really was. So he tells us to taste and see that the Lord is good. We are not just to read of God’s goodness in a book, or hear about it from a friend or from our pastor in a sermon on a Sunday morning. No, David tells us to taste it, to experience it!

But it begs the question; how do we experience God and taste His goodness? A closer look at the rest of this Psalms 34 is helpful in explaining how we do this. The passage tells us to take refuge in the Lord (vs. 8), to fear the Lord (vs. 9), and to seek Him (vs. 10). It instructs us to listen and carefully note what the Psalmist and other writers of God’s word have to say (vs. 11). The passage also tells us to keep from speaking things that are evil or deceitful (vs. 13), to turn from evil, do good, and pursue peace (vs. 14). 

Look at the verbs the Psalmist uses in these verses. He says to take refuge, seek, listen, turn away from, pursue. Do you notice anything special about these verbs? They are action verbs. This then is how we taste God’s goodness. It is a call to action, not a passive observation. We are to actively engage in a walk with our Lord.

Prayer: Father, You are good. Teach me to actively pursue You. Help me to learn how to taste Your goodness. In Jesus’ name, Amen. 

Thought for the Day: Tasting that the Lord is good does not happen through passive observation, it requires action.

 

 

 

 

 

Friends for Life

"Ogún ọmọdé kìí ṣeré ogún ọdún.” 

This is a Yoruba proverb which translated into English says, “Twenty children cannot play together for twenty years.” But what does it mean?

The Yoruba people are native to the country of Nigeria, West Africa where I was born and spent my childhood. They use proverbs often to explain the world around them. This proverb belongs to the category of simple truth; proverbs used to explain simple truths. It means people grow and make new friends. They move away and do not stay with the same group of people who were their childhood playmates. Some English expressions with the same meaning might be, “life goes on”, “times change and we must change with them”, or “nothing stays the same.” 

 

Well, my group of childhood friends is the exception to this truth. Though we grew, changed, moved apart, and became very different individuals living in many different parts of the USA and even the world, we nonetheless managed to remain close friends. This unique group of individuals, who shared a common childhood in Nigeria in our beloved tropical homeland half a world away from where most of us live now, grew up calling each others’ parents aunt and uncle. We still feel a kinship as though we are family–cousins perhaps—and because of this kinship we continue to gather once a year at Shocco Springs, AL for a reunion. Last years was canceled because of Covid and this year’s nearly was, for the same reason. But it’s not canceled and it’s coming up next weekend! YAY! I can’t wait! 😊

Fall’s Almost Here!

 

Where did the summer go? I’m enjoying a week at Hilton Head Island. I do this every year the second week in September. Many years ago my mother-in-law loved time shares and bought several. When she passed away we, along with her other children, each inherited a couple. We sold our other weeks. Truth-be-told, time shares can be a headache and I’m glad to have unloaded the others. But this one we love and intend to keep.

It always makes the summer last just a little longer since it’s still warm and I’m still enjoying the pool and beach. But as soon as I get back home next week, fall will be fast approaching. I’ll put the fall decorations up, start cooking soups to freeze for the winter, and make some pumpkin bread in mini loaves to also freeze and eat all fall. I love the fall but right now I’m savoring the last few sweet days of summer. 

(Soon it’ll be time to start reading my autumn Glimpses of God devotional, too. 😊

Busy Summer!

 

Here are some summer fun times pics! I’ve had a busy summer but didn’t want July to get away without posting on my blog. I try to post at least monthly. Thought I’d share some pics from one of my summer adventures. Earlier this week my oldest son, grandson, and I made a trip to Nashville to visit the Country Music Hall of fame and Studio B. We had a great time! The picture where we are standing was taking in Studio B. The piano in the pic is the one used in so many songs recorded by RCA including most of Elvis’ songs. How cool is that? 

But fall is approaching quickly. I will travel to a family reunion this week and when I get home, school will have started so my work substituting will start too. To get you in the fall mood, the last book in my Glimpses of God series is up for pre-order. It’s the Autumn book with a cover that will have you wanting to sip hot apple cider by a fire. 

Confessions of a Novice--a Funny Selah Story

 

I just got back from the Selah Awards. The picture is from there. In it, my husband and I are posing with our publisher, Gregg Bridgeman, after winning First Place in the General Nonfiction Book category. 

That category came later in the ceremony and by then I knew what to do...

But I was a finalist in another category too--"Articles in Print". Did you notice the word articles starts with an A? Well, the winners were called out alphabetically by category, sooo...

I had never been to the Selahs before but didn't worry because when the finalists were announced "anthologies" was announced first. I had assured myself, I could just watch that group as they were called out to see what one does if they happen to have their named called. I sat comfortably in my chair waiting to watch whatever happened. Eva Marie Everson, the MC came to the mic and said they were starting with "Articles in Print". (Unbeknownst to me, they had bumped anthologies back to be with the other books.) When I heard this I sat upright and thought, "Uh oh! I'm in trouble." Eva announced the 3rd place winner and it was not me. I blew out a sigh of relief and relaxed back in my seat a little. I could see what that person did. Did they walk on stage or just stay in their seats? My back quickly tightened again and grew rigid when it became apparent that person had not come to the awards ceremony. Then the 2nd place person was called--me!

I had no idea whether I was supposed to go on stage, stand, or just stay seated. I quickly decided it was better to stay seated than to parade on stage when no one else that night did. Eva moved closer to the mic and said, "I know Harriet is here. Harriet, where are you?" I stood up at my seat. 

Then Eva graciously said, "Forgive me. I forgot to say what people should do when their names are called." Then she proceeded to explain that we come onstage from one set of steps, receive our certificate or plaque, and exit down the other. So I made my way to the stage thinking, "I guess it's pretty obvious I have never won a Selah before." :D

To quote my sister who made this comment from a church stage once when she was supposed to sing and had made an awkward entrance. She faced the congregation and said, "I was born in Africa and went to high school in West Virginia, so really you're just lucky I'm wearing shoes." She brought the house down.

I love Africa and West Virginia, by the way. Experienced some of the best times of my life at those two amazing places being a part of those wonderful people, and though I've lived in Louisville longer than anywhere else, I will always think of my two hometowns as Ogbomoso, Nigeria and Bluefield, West Virginia. So I mean nothing derogative in that statement. I actually did spend most of the first ten years of my life barefoot.

Health News and Other Updates

I usually try to put up new blog posts every few weeks. This time it’s been almost two months but a lot has happened in those two months and a lot is coming up, so my blog posts may suffer a little. 

The second of my children, a son named Robert, has been diagnosed with a rare hereditary autoimmune disease called antisynthetase syndrome (ASS). It attacks muscles, joints, and lungs. We have all been on a roller coaster ride with this diagnosis. At first his doctor offered him a grave prognosis due to the interstitial lung disease (ILD) that is a part of this syndrome, telling him most people only have 3-5 years to live from diagnosis. Then when Robert saw the rheumatologist, he got a more encouraging but still pretty dire prognosis when told that though ILD in general does have only a 3-5 yr life expectancy, it’s a little better with ASS. He was told the 5-year survival rate w/ASS was 65%. That would have been hard news to take but compared to only 3-5 years to live, we were rejoicing. 

It got even better after seeing the pulmonologist and finding out that he had no lung scarring on the CT scan, normal lung function tests, and the type of ILD that does not cause fibrosis. After these good results, he is told his 5-year survival rate is 90%. What a huge praise! He is on meds and still in need of prayers, though, along with his wife and two precious children. 

In addition to this, I had hand surgery putting my right (dominant) hand in a cast for a total of two months, making writing difficult. It’s casted as I write this. And my 92 year old father got sick with a combination of thugs-tummy bug, blood sugar problems, and gout. He was hospitalized for a week and then moved to rehab. He is doing well in rehab and will likely be discharged mid-week next week. 

As if that is not enough, my daughter is getting married May 25 and there’s still so much to do for that, my husband and I will travel to Ridgecrest to attend the Selah Awards the weekend after the wedding, and I’ll teach a workshop at the Kentucky Christian Writers Conference in mid June. 

My life may be a lot of things but dull is not one of them.  

Easter Tidbits

 

Through the years, I have researched some Easter related topics for pieces I was writing. As Easter approaches once again, I thought I'd share two interesting Easter tidbits that are both poignant and powerful. 

Gethsemane

The word Gethsemane comes from the two Hebrew words, geth which means press and shemen which means oil. The process used to extract olive oil back in Jesus’ day was in two parts. First whole olives were put into a stone basin with a millstone in it. A horse or donkey was harnessed and led around in a circular motion causing the millstone to roll over the olives, cracking them. Then the cracked olives were put into a burlap bag and placed under a large stone column–a gethsemane. The enormous weight of the column squeezed the olives causing the precious oil to run out, allowing it to be collected.

 

While Jesus was in the garden of the olive press, He too felt an enormous weight of burden crushing down on him. However, Jesus’ burden was not a physical one, but a spiritual one. Yet, what did he say? “Not my will be Thine be done.” And what did he do? He went willingly to the cross to gain salvation for you and me.

 

When the olives were crushed, out came the precious, treasured oil. When Jesus was crushed, from his blood came our salvation. Look for the good things God will bring about in your time of trials.

Kidron Valley

According to John 18:1 when Jesus traveled to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray on the night before he was crucified, he crossed the Kidron valley. The Hebrew word Kidron means dark or black. The valley got its name because the temple was directly above this valley and as animals were sacrificed, their blood ran out of the temple and into the Kidron Valley, turning the ground black as it dried. Isn’t it amazing to realize that Jesus passed through this valley on his way to the cross? I wonder what went through His mind as he stepped on the black ground. I wonder, did he picture my face—and yours?

Selah Award News!!

On Wednesday of last week, I learned that pieces I wrote or co-wrote were selected as finalists in two categories of the Selah Awards. I’m humbled, honor and thrilled! The two pieces  and categories were: 

In the category of Articles in Print: “Dr. Billy Graham and the Legendary Icing Caper” written by me and published in 2020 in “Power for Living.”

In the category of Nonfiction Books, A Stand for Truth published in 2020 by Olivia Kimbrell Press and written by my husband, John R. Michael and me. 

Coming Soon!

It’s hard to believe it’s almost March. My co-writer, Shirley Crowder, and I have been hard at work doing final edits on the Spring addition to our “Glimpses of God” devotional series. We finally have a cover picture to show you and a release date! We are so excited!

So...

Coming March 12!! 

New Beginings: Mornings

Are you a morning person or a night one? I’m a morning person, so naturally the theme of New Beginnings makes me think of morning—the beginning of each new day. I love mornings, they always have a freshness to me as if they hold a secret promise of great things that might happen as the day unfolds.

Some years ago as I was researching and writing my book on prayer, I came across so many passages in the scripture where one Bible character or another rises early in the morning to do something God had called them to do that day, or to seek God in some way. Here are some examples, just to list a few:

Abraham rose early the day he planned to offer Isaac as a sacrifice according to Genesis 22:3. He rose early again the day after Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed and he hurried to a place where he could look down on the cities to see if they had been destroyed or not. (Genesis 19:27-28)

Joshua rose early to travel to the Jordon before he crossed over. (Joshua 3:1)

David rose early to obey his father Jesse and take supplies to his brothers in battle. (1 Samuel 17:20)

God instructed Moses to rise early when he was to stand before Pharaoh and tell him to let God’s people go. (Exodus 8:20)

… and on and on it goes. If you look for this pattern in the scripture, you will find it.

So, what’s the lesson here? Is this bad news for those of us who do not care so much for mornings and need a little time and maybe a cup of coffee before we can even begin to embrace the new day? I don’t think so. I don’t think the Biblical point is to love mornings as much as it is to get on with whatever God has for you to do in life. In the Bible times, before electricity, if they were going to apply themselves in whatever action they felt God had asked of them, they’d better not waste any daylight; they better get on with it.

Today, doing what God has asked of you may require staying up late instead of rising early. But the point remains--embrace the day! Or rather, embrace what God is calling you to do, and get busy doing it, whether that means getting up early or sleeping late because you stayed up late the night before.

Me? I prefer getting up early. I love mornings. The scripture has a special blessing for mornings in Lamentations 3:22-23 which tells us that God’s mercies are new every morning, and his compassions never fail.