TREASURES

Treasures can be many things and the definition of a treasure varies from the eyes of the beholder. My brothers found two family treasures a few weeks ago, that had not been forgotten….only the memories we shared over the years of these items and the question and mystery “what happened to them?” I feel honored that they let me have these “family treasures” and I will cherish them always and not let them slip from our view again.

They found these treasures while cleaning out an old shed located at mother’s house. This shed had 45 + years of piled up junk that has been locked up and decaying. About 15 years ago I opened that ole’ shed and it looked like a trash dump. There was no way you could sort through things and make out what they were. Seemed like it was a place of things that were important years gone by…just thrown in there to rot and “yes” it looked like a pile of rot.

When my brothers finally found the key to open this shed, a mother raccoon greeted them with a growl and a warning that this was her home. Her babies were only a few days old and had not opened their eyes yet. The plan that day was to just open the shed and see what work was ahead. They had a mess in there and knew that this was a mess for the trash. It would be a few weeks before they tackled this job and it took them several appointments to finally get it cleaned out. When they returned to cleaned it out…. Mother raccoon moved her babies elsewhere (thank-goodness!).

These treasures were on the bottom of the pile and found on the final day of completing the job. My brother Jamey called me of their find and informed me I could have them if I wanted them. Both brothers did not want the items and thought they would look nice in our outdoor living space called “The Chicken Coop.” “Oh My!” I was so excited they found them.

The first item was a sign my parents had made at the Louisiana State Fair in the mid-60’s.  We always went to that fair…every year and my parents loved the fair. The “sign” was the “naming” of our week-end camp that we traveled to every week-end. I can still remember my parents discussing the well thought out name for our camp and also the message that they wanted to relay to all who came for a visit. “The Lazy J’s”…… we were all J names…John, Jan, Johnny, Julie and Jamey. Our camp was located about 45 min. drive from our home on the Louisiana-Texas border; Lake Monterey a private lake with a few camps located in the deep woods that very few folks knew about. It was a few miles down a sandy, dusty road…no phones… no nothing… just pure woodsy and untouched  territory that gave you a sense of a pioneer. We did have modern conveniences such as electricity, A/C, heat, and a bathroom…. but other than that we were in the woods…overlooking a beautiful lake, great fishing, hunting and my childhood playground had no boundaries. My time as a child on Lake Monterey was filled with being independent to all the elements and surroundings it offered in a safe environment that is very hard to find in today’s world. I explored those vast woods, swam from one end of the lake to the other. Never saw a sole as we kids trampled through the woods and built forts out of our imagination and lived each moment as if we were the only ones in our little world.  

The camp became a place for many family and friends to come out and visit. Wonderful memories made there with “many” who came to enjoy our special place….but some came with their troubles (few) and the sign was not only a way to let folks know the name of the place…but a message to all who came. The sign read; “THE LAZY J’S CAMP  LEAVE YOUR TROUBLES AT HOME.’’  I don’t think the sign made a difference in those who continued to bring their troubles to our hide-out…but was happy to know the rule of our camp was to “leave your troubles at home.” What a treasure to find that sign and it still be in good condition. This “sign” is such a wonderful spark that lights many memories for me. In a sense it takes me “home” to my childhood playground and I am a child again.

In the 80’s I painted a picture for my mother and wrote a poem about this special place. It was a time in my life I needed that place again to be present and knew it could never be. I truly believe that painting my childhood playground brought a healing in my life and a step forward in letting go of moving forward into the adulthood I was now a part of. I guess as I look back to that special place it was grand… but so short lived. I will always cherish and remember those memories we shared as a family and a time we had our daddy in our lives. It would be only a few years after we sold the camp that he got sick and died.

Poem: THE CAMP
As the time has passed
The past has not been erased
The years of childhood so embedded in place
And as time has gone by, not one memory has gone to waste
It seems there has not been any space in time
In which my mind can't still trace
It was yesterday the smell of spring and "Oh" how the birds did sing
On my childhood playground, I can still hear the sounds-so dear and very precious of my past.

Notice in painting..we had a cable with a rope swing (loved swinging and droping off into the lake) and a tree that had a platform built into it. We could dive out of that tree for hours and see who could do the biggest "Geronimo!" The lake dropped off fast and was a good 30 feet deep a few feet from the shore. Near our barge was a petrified tree..."yes" petrified... and went from our shore..maybe 20 feet. It rested on the lake bottom and we would balance ourself and walk on it until it was over our head. As you followed it into the deep it no longer rested on the bottom..but was suspended and we could swim under it.. A natural God designed monkey bar and balancing beam it was. So much fun!

Camp Sign now hanging safely in the Chicken Coop.

Me, Mother, Jamey, Daddy, Rickey (sitting on car) and Rives standing by the sign that hung on a pinetree as you entered the driveway.

This brings me to the second treasure they found. Our daddy was so full of life and loved it to his fullness. He was involved in everything and still found the time every week-end to escape to the lake to fish and the woods to hunt. After selling the camp he bought a houseboat on Caddo Lake and our week-end adventures continued. It was during this time that he decided to run for “Police Jury” for Caddo Parish. Really don’t remember all the details…but do remember him wanting to use this position to help improve situations concerning Caddo Lake and other lakes in our Parish. As the campaign progressed many of his followers wanting him to drop out of the Police Jury race and run for LA State Rep., thinking he could get more accomplished for the lakes in Caddo Parish. Voting was going to take place in February and it was the season of fall when he did decide maybe to change direction to run for State Rep. It was during this time of decision making that he noticed that something was wrong with his health. It all came together before Thanksgiving concerning his suspicions that he was sick and was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.  His first surgery was before Christmas and the realization that he needed to drop out of politics soon followed. He lived to see another Christmas and went to be with the Lord the following spring. The ambulance that was called to take him to his final hospital stay… picked him up on Caddo Lake. He had been fishing all week-end and doing what he loved.  Well…guess what survived the shed all these years? A campaign poster from that history in our lives, that brings back memories of long ago. We have through the years remembered and thought of these items from time to time… never dreaming relics were left behind.  My crafty husband built a frame for the “Campaign Poster” and covered it with Plexiglas to preserve it for the next generation. Don’t know if they will appreciate it as much as I do and hope it will not get lost again…same goes with the Camp Sign. They are both now hanging in the Chicken Coop and what joy to see them again.

Poster framed and now rest in the 'Chicken Coop."

Found this campaign flyer in my mother's paperwork. The one and only one...left after all these years.

My question to you as you read this writing from the heart. What is your definition of a “Treasure?” Sometimes, in life treasures have no value at all except to the “one” who has the memories hidden in the object.  To them it is worth all the gold and silver this ole’ world contains. The sign and poster give me the sense that daddy and mother are looking down from heaven and humming the song “Thanks for the Memories” and I am saying “yes” thanks for all the wonderful memories… Good and bad… they are what made me…. to whom I am today… and I will always be grateful.

Good Bye Mother: May 22, 1934 - March 21, 2012 - We will always love you!

Saying goodbye to my mother and sharing my memories of her at her funeral. Her favorite hymn was "Here I am Lord" and she requested this hymn be played at her funeral. After it was played and heard I shared our memories.

Throughout scripture we learn God is always pursuing His children and “most of the time” it takes God a while to get their attention. And when He finally does…many have stopped in what they were doing and said “Here I am Lord.” Jacob in Genesis 31:11..Here I am Lord, Moses said the same thing in Exodus 3:4; Here I am Lord……… Samuel, Here I am Lord; 1 Samuel 3:4, Ananias..Acts 9:10….Here I am Lord and Isaiah 6: 8-9: Here I am Lord was Isaiah’ reply when the Lord called his name. A ready obedience to follow their Lord in this very simple statement has been echoed throughout salvation history, God calling his children.

Our Mother has always loved this song and has told me numerous times that she wanted it played at her funeral. I would always say “Mother I think it is about someone discerning a call into ministry.” She would say.. “Well it might mean that to some…but to me it is going to be the day the Lord calls me home.. I will be telling Jesus.. Here I am Lord….is it I Lord..I have heard you calling in the night.. I will go Lord if you need me.. I will hold your people in my heart.

Today my mother is holding us all in her heart.. she has not left us and I made her promise me before she went to her heavenly rest…that she would continue to pray for me in heavenly places, for my journey until I could see her again. I also made her promise to pray for all of us.. We now have another intercessor in heaven looking over us, cheering us on and praying for us all until we meet again.

This facility we are sitting in today.. it may have been added on, a few times, but my Mother told me a few years ago while attending a cousin’s funeral here. “You know I started out life here.. I might as well finish here. This place was the “White Way” when she was a teenager. The local hang out for the teens of her day to eat, flirt and have a good time. She and my daddy had a few dates here before they married July 20^th

 1953. John Herman Grogan was the love of her life and she never remarried. They knew each other as children growing up.. he being a few years older. They fought like cats and dogs as children…and they could not stand each other. This all changed when my daddy came home on leave from the Navy. Daddy had seen her picture in the Vivian paper on ship and told one of his buddies… “You see this girl in the picture; I am going to marry her one day.” Her story is: he chased her and would not take no for an answer.. for a date with him when he arrived back home on leave. And she said no to him several times before she finally said “yes.” Charlie Mae Hammock finally convinced her to go out with him…she said “Jan one date won’t hurt you.. John’s a good boy and comes from a good family.” So with a little nudging from Charlie she finally took up his offer. It was a whirl wind romance and in a few weeks they were engaged. Dad had to go back to his ship….but would return in a few months to claim his bride. During their separation she almost cancelled the wedding…getting cold feet, she did not think she was ready for marriage, the reason? She had taken up learning to cook and it was the pie crust that convinced her she was not ready. She could not master the crust.. my daddy reassured her that he was a cook and he would make the pie crust and not to worry. I do not know if my daddy ever made a pie crust… but my mother did master a pie crust and was a wonderful cook. The time finally arrived and my daddy returned home to claim his bride. The first thing on their “to do” list was to drive to the Court House from Vivian. The court house was located in Shreveport and they needed to get a marriage license. Back in 1953 Hwy 1 was a one lane dirt road.. no A/C in the car.. remember it was July..  off they went to the court house to get their marriage license. They got there only to find out my mother needed her parents signature.. she was 19 years old. So they drove back to Vivian for her mother to sign the paper work. Her mom Raybe, using a pen scratched on the paper work and off they went again to Shreveport to get their marriage license….stood in line…and finally they had arrived with papers in tow…gave them to the clerk…the clerk looked them over and her mother had written in the space where her name was to go… “Jan and John have gone crazy.” They both could have.. killed her. Time was not on their side…the wedding was a few days away and they had wasted a whole day driving back and forth to Shreveport.

I call my Mother….Mother, the boys call her Mama, Jan Swilley (no middle name…just Jan) was born May 22, 1934 in Henderson, Tx to Jack and Raybe Swilley and soon moved to Vivian, her mother’s hometown, and in time became her childhood hometown. She loved Vivian and had many family and friends here and they experienced many fond memories in school, church and play. She left here soon after her marriage and returning often. She was a Vivian Warrior class of 1952 and was one of the schools “beauties” also Band Sweetheart. She was in the band, but never learned to play her instrument. She had convinced her Band teacher she could play, always forgetting her clarinet at home when “test time” came up (I wonder if he knew?) She would tell me, I would march in the band, put my clarinet to my lips and act like I knew what I was doing… That’s our Mama! Mother was a Southern Belle from her birth and she wore her title well all the days of her life. She loved to be queen of the ball and wear all the accessories that went with it. When I took her shopping, she was like a child in the candy store and would go for hours... “shop till you drop was not in her vocabulary.” She never dropped…she was like the Energizer Bunny. When she was about 5, her mother owned a beauty shop in Vivian. One day she decided she wanted a new dress and while sitting in her mom’s shop…decided to do what everyone else did to buy a new dress. She slipped out of her mom’s shop, went to the clothing store, located just a few steps from her shop, she found a dress, shoes to match, gloves and a matching purse to go with her new outfit. She was so please with herself….. only five years old. She goes right up to the cash register as if she owned the place and said “Charge this to my daddy.” And they did… It was a few days before her mom and dad figured it out.. when the bill arrived. That’s our Mother!

Take notice of a picture of our Mother in the next video when she was about 8-9 years old, dressed in an outfit that looks like she came out of a Tarzan movie.  That was her costume for Cleopatra.. a school play she was in. From what I have been told by reliable family members and her.. she took that role very series. She was not just Cleopatra…. She was Queen Cleopatra and orchestrated her entry onto center stage without any advice or direction from the teacher. Making several boys carry her in.. this was not in the script. Reminiscing with her about this story one day I asked her: “Mother why did you get the boys to carry you in? “Well, I was Queen and no one seemed to understand how important my roll was. I did not have any speaking parts.. and I was determine to show all my classmates, I might not have had a speaking part…but I was Queen Cleopatra!” How she ever talked the boys into carrying her onto the stage will always be a mystery. She would carry that spirit of getting her way and being Queen Bee always…… Knowing her she probably worked a deal with the angels and was ushered into heaven on Elijah’s Chariot.  

Our Daddy’s last assignment in the Navy was Hawaii and somehow he got my mother over there w/ their first born child…Johnny. She never forgot that special time they had in Hawaii and shared with me many times..when their time over there ended, they both stared out of the plane window with great sadness. Looking at the beauty of the island from on high, my daddy made her a promise.. they would return one day. I think they just might be there now.

 Daddy decided after the Navy he wanted to provide better opportunities and the best things needed in life for his growing family. He decided to go back to school and pursue a degree in dentistry. It amazes me today when I ponder this journey they took together for him to become a dentist. How our society has changed so much. How couples today both work and have to work..to supply the needs of a growing family. Our Mom never worked while daddy was in school and somehow they made it work. Just recently I found a letter that mother had saved in her bank deposit box for many years. It was a letter written to her soon after daddy’s death. It was from Emory University, written by the Dean of Alumni. He was sending his condolences to her and our family. He said “ John always gave a superb account of himself, had a distinguished career at Emory, he was ever-so popular with his classmates as evidenced by his being President of his class and becoming trustee of the Alumni Association. Not only did daddy go back to school with a full academic load and a family, he was very active in the student body and he worked to pay the bills. Daddy and Mother were from a generation that is dying out. He did not want her to work and she did not want to work. She loved being taken care of by her man. They say “behind every great man there’s a great woman.” She had to be some lady to persevere and cheer him on during that time in their life. We “kids” have teased her from time to time that she never had a job in life. She would always say, “you do not know how hard and smart you need to be..to find ways so you do not have to work…think about it.” Times were different back then too… no food stamps or government assistance…just pure God given drive to become someone. They did it!

Jamey and I were born when daddy was in dental school and after dental school…. Our family returned to Shreveport. I was four, Jamey was just a baby…Johnny was 8 going on 40. We were living the American Dream. Mother was a homemaker, daddy was building up his dental practice and with all the hard years of school behind them… it was time to enjoy life.

We had some fun years…fishing, hunting, camp, houseboat, summer vacations to the beach and we were surrounded by many family members and friends that shared this moment with us. Many wonderful memories growing up.

Thirty nine years ago (seems like yesterday) our life as a family was crushed in 1973. My mother was 38, Johnny was almost 19, I was going to be 15 in 9 days and Jamey was 12 years old. We lost our daddy and my mother lost her husband. At the time of his death our mother had never balanced a check book, paid a bill, worked a day in her life or made any major decision in running a household….. Her man did it all. On top of that she had two teenagers and one child heading that direction. I will be honest with you… it was a mess. I am sure, some of you that are here today, that knew us back then… you might have said “they won’t survive as a family.” I know.. I thought the same thing. Her Rock.. our rock had been pulled out from under our feet. It was a tough time for all of us and we all did the best we could in handling this great loss, our daddy. We kids in many ways also lost our mother for a while, as she muddled in this drama that this road had taken her to. None of us knew how to fix it, make it better and we all did the best we could with a situation that left us feeling like we had been abandoned. What a load she was carrying. But in time…she climbed back to the mountain top and she found her strength with the Lord’s help and there was no stopping her now. When she finally found the light…she returned with a great joy for life and a deep love for her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She stepped out of her comfort zone and did things I never thought she would do on her own. Returning to church was one of the first things on her “to do list” and her longtime friend Sybil remembers that day. Mother had asked her to meet her in the parking lot because she was so scared to go inside by herself. It just took that friend’s hand to help her return to church. She loved her little church ( N. Highlands United Methodist) and was proud to be one of the ladies of the church that kept the altar clean and changed the seasonal cloths that drape the altar. It made her feel special and gave her the opportunity to do something, for her Jesus. She truly looked at it as a service to Him. She also got to serve on the financial committee of the church for a few years. Oh my, she was so proud of that opportunity. She told me when she was appointed, “I can’t believe they would want me..I don’t know anything about running a business or have any financial experience.” In time she settled into her role there and was proud of herself.  I truly believe she made a difference and was a part of many decisions that helped her little church make wise choices in how the Lord’s money was to be spent.

Mother loved life and maybe appreciated it more than most. She knew and understood how temporary each moment could be and treasured the things she loved to do and the times she spent with family and friends.

Personally we made many wonderful memories together and I will cherish them always. We traveled; we took a few cruises together, for many years we took her with us on family vacations. We even got her to white water raft down the Natahala.. she was the only person on the river with a rain bonnet on. The seasons of life matured our relationship to one so special. I expressed this special gift to her many years ago in a painting… I painted for her. It was a painting of us shopping in Kennebunkport, Maine. Kennebunkport costal village of Maine with its historical 1700 picturesque architecture located on the Atlantic. I finished this painting with a simple handwritten phrase that coined our relationship . “Always my Mother…Now to my Friend.”  This phrase might not mean much too many…but to me and my mother…it meant much. We understood it was a miracle and a gift that many never reach in life. We cherished our friendship…and I told her many times “you are my best friend.”

Mother enjoyed and took pride in her growing family over the years. She has six grandchildren and 4 great-grandchildren. Two of her grandchildren are at her side today in heaven.. Brad Grogan and Jamiee Alison.

Her faith was simple and her trust in her Heavenly Father was childlike..it had no theological understanding.. it was just knowing He was with her…and trusting in Jesus that all things would work out sooner or later. Knowing He was her Savior and He would take care of her…..all the way to her eternal home.

She loved the simple things of life..to stop and smell the roses. To listen to sounds of the birds singing a new song every morning was a gift..a promise for a new day.  She and her neighbors Mary and Gary put in a prayer garden between their homes. She enjoyed that special place so much. She loved every moment in which she spent with her special friends admiring the beauty of God’s creation in a simple flower. The details of its shape, color and fragrance spoke to her heart about His love for her. To sit, to talk, to share, to make time stop, to visit, to plan, to love, to hear his voice speak was what she encountered in their prayer garden.

Queen Cleopatra

On one of our mother and daughter trips a few years ago we were driving on a country road…. It was a beautiful early spring morning and it had been raining for many days..the rain had stopped and the sun was shining to its fullest. She said to me; “Look at all different colors of green..How did God ever come up with so many shades of green? For an artist to paint them they would have to mix many colors to paint all these shades of green. She saw God and His love through the simplest things..that many of us never stop to see. Her advice for us all..is stop and smell the roses. She did stop many a times during her day…and smelled the scents of life, looked upon the simplest reminders that surround her , listened and heard His voice and she felt His love in the simplest things we all seem to miss out on in the hustle and bustle of life.

819 Livingston.. the house we shared with our daddy and her home became a returning place for many over the years. Mother became the Patriarch for us all, her home was a gathering place that we shared many memories with family and friends.

It’s gonna be hard letting go of that house.. where will we go now? You know our home is where our hearts rest and we feel loved. In reality our earthly homes are temporary and with the seasons of life they will always change. When Mother told me years ago she wanted the song; “Here I am Lord” played at her funeral, I would of never dreamed how appropriate that song would be. She was so ready to go home and I wonder how many times she actually called out to her God (in the silence of not being able to communicate with us) and cried out to Him “Here I Am Lord.” She knew that her temporary home was coming to a close and she was ready for the Season of LIFE that will “never change” it is the promise of Eternal Life..a home for eternity. She knew her Jesus and she knew He purchased that eternal home for her on the cross. We will all one day have to make this journey… and listen for His voice.. and say “Yes, I am ready….Here I am Lord.” Today we do not say “Good bye Mama.. we say; we will meet again.”

This was not part of the sharing at the funeral, wanted to add as my conclusion to a very difficult journey in my life. Through it all my God was faithful!

A friend in Sacramento, CA. sent us a letter today and did not know mother had been sick. He shared with us all about what was going on in his life and ect.... He then asked me if I was reading any good book during Lent and share a few books he was reading. This was my reply to him and hopefully will paint a picture for you concerning my last days with my mother. It was tough....but "oh!" so special and would not trade it for all the siver and gold in this ole' world.

John you asked what I have been reading during Lent. You would not believe how important my readings have been during this stressful ordeal with my mom. I had been staying with her for countless hours this last three months. Several hospitals, Acute Care Hospitals, Nursing Home (2 weeks) and finally a Hospice Hospital for the last week of her life. The last week of her life in Hospice was such a spiritual journey for me as I read to her the daily readings of the church, did the Rosary, sang hymns and prayed. I had three devotional books I was using and the one that was my comfort and encourager the last week of my mom’s life is a 31 Devotional “The Christ of Easter” by Calvin Miller. The day before she died this was the daily devotional:                                    It was now noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three, because the sun’s light failed. The curtain of the sanctuary was split down the middle. And Jesus called out with a loud voice, Father, ‘into Your hands I entrust My spirit.’ Saying this, He breathed His last. Luke 23:44-46.

Here are seven words you should reserve for your dying: “Into Your hands I entrust my spirit.” In our years of walking with Jesus, many of our steps must be taken in the dark, in times of great uncertainty. But the last step always be in the light. The dying time is the time for spending these seven words: Into Your hands I entrust my spirit.” Perhaps you are young. Perhaps Jesus’ final words do not seem to you to be anything you will need in decades. Let this be your counsel: find an older friend and draw close to them. Make sure the older friend is a Christian. Then watch them live out their final days. If God should make it possible, watch this believer change worlds.

You will see a grand confidence in them as they spend these final words. Best of all, you will see that only watching people die is often possible to find out what they really believe. Only from the end of life can we test those philosophies we said we believed during our younger years. Those who die well have lived well. Those who can say with peace and utter resolve, “Into Your hands I entrust my spirit,” are those whose dying proves they lived well. Only one confident ends awaits all of us who are flesh. It is to be able to use Jesus words legitimately, “Father into Your hands…..” Those who can use these words understand why Jesus died. They have ascertained the confidence Jesus placed in his heavenly Father---- the certainty he sensed when he closed his eyes for the final time. This is the greatest part of the gospel. It is to publish Jesus’ dying words as the hope of every heart; it is to give the final cross cry to every person. Sooner or later, all must close their eyes for the last time. If in such a moment they possess the final words of the cross, they will be able to say clearly, “Earth is receding but heaven is approaching. This is my long-anticipated moment of oneness with the Father! Into your hands I entrust my spirit.”  

My mother died with such faith and dignity and was so brave. She was this person in this devotional that “Only from the end of life can we test those philosophies we said we believed during our younger years. Those who die well have lived well.”  Was this reading coincidence or what? My mom listened as I encouraged her to put her trust in the Father…and she did.

Come go with us to Bethlehem to Witness the Birth of the Savior

We are changing our Facebook profile picture today for the start of Advent starting this Sunday, November 27, 2011. The pic is a piece of art that we purchased a few years ago called La Posada. The Spanish word “Posada” means lodging or accommodation. It can truly speak to one’s heart and prepare us for the true meaning of Advent.  When I sit and lay my eyes upon this beautiful work of art, I ponder what the artist is trying to tell me, teach me and in doing so the artist brings me into the lives of “Joseph and Mary” as if it happened today. I am there with them on this journey to pay the taxes in Bethlehem. Come go with us to Bethlehem.                                                                                                                                        Joseph’s face is motionless, somewhat in a deep place, in deep thought, so deep that he probably has lost all senses and the reality of this gruesome journey. His mind is lost in the eagerness to get to Bethlehem with his wife Mary, the Christ child in her womb and keeping them safe. Can you imagine the worry, the details that he was working over in his mind as they traveled by foot?  We must remember that Mary was heavily pregnant at the time and the 80 mile trip was not like it would be today. If Mary and Joseph traveled from Nazareth to Bethlehem, as stated in Luke's Gospel, we must think about the route they took and the culture of the day. Samaria lay between Galilee and Judea, the region in which the town of Bethlehem is located. There was much ill feeling between the Samaritans and the Jews. Any lone traveler crossing from Galilee into Samaria would be at risk of attack and would certainly not receive lodgings or any other type of assistance on the journey. The family would have had to travel east, cross over into modern-day Jordan and then travel south on the eastern side of the Jordan River, before crossing back into Judea. This is a much longer journey.

Mary; as I gaze at her face, her posture, as she rest and rides on the donkey I see a women that is resting and trusting her God. I am reminded of what she was told, just a few months ago when the angel Gabriel announced to her; “Hail, favored one! The Lord is with you, do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord will give Him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and his kingdom will have no end. And Mary said to the angel; “how can this be, since I have no relationship with a man?” Gabriel replied; “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God.” Wow what a statement! I notice Mary has her left hand gently touching her swollen belly and her right hand rest upon her lap. Or maybe her right hand is supporting the growing Christ child in her womb, the child she loves so much and will soon be a mother to. Does she realize that the next 33 years will take her and the Christ child, all the way to the cross? Does she recall over and over in her mind the words of Gabriel? As she lightly caresses her womb, I am in awe that she is with child, not any child; “God of the Universe, The Word that became flesh.

The donkey has one foot lifted as he moves quickly, as Joseph has a light hand on his mane. Joseph will keep the donkey close to him, guide him and reassure the Donkey continually with his touch in hopes that the donkey understands the special cargo in which he is carrying. The donkey’s eyes are sharp, clear and looking into the direction in which Joseph is leading him.

I ponder and keep all these things close to my heart, just like Mary did in Luke chapter 2; when Jesus went missing for 3 days and was found in the Temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, listening to them and asking questions and all who heard the young child Jesus were astounded. Mary and Joseph after finding him and being anxious; Jesus says, “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s House?” And Mary kept all these things close to her heart. As my eyes behold the artwork, again I notice Mary lightly touching her womb, and she is keeping all these things close to her heart. Will she fully understand the words of Simeon when she and Joseph take Jesus to the Temple and present him to God? “Now, Master, you may let your servant go in peace, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you prepared in sight of all the peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory for all people.” Simeon blessed them and prophesied “”Behold this child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be contradicted (and you yourself a sword will pierce) so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed” (Luke Chapter 2:22-35). Simeon’s words echo in my mind, “and you yourself a sword will pierce.” Oh Mary, what the sword must have felt like when you were standing by the cross of your son Jesus? John 19 26-27. When Jesus saw you and the disciple there whom he loved, he said to you Mary; “Women Behold, your son.” He then also told his disciple, “Behold, your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took you into his home. Me too….Mary, I have also taken you into my home since I have become Catholic. You have become my heavenly mother, you have taught me so much and you gently point me to your son. Through you, I feel the sword in which you felt that day your son Jesus hung on the cross. Through you I understand what our Jesus (your son) endured on the cross for me and the whole world. Through you I have come to know that “Blessed be the fruit of thy womb Jesus” means so much more to me than I could imagine!

 The following will sum up the beauty of entering into this season of Advent with Mary and Joseph as they travel to Bethlehem. How important Mary’s role has become in my Christian Faith. As I journey toward “Christmas Day Bethlehem” during the season of Advent, I ask Mary to gently take my hand and help me to understand Luke chapter 1; 28 “Hail Mary full of grace the Lord is with you” 42: “Most Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.”

 Exodus 40:34-35, when the Tabernacle was completed, we learn the following:

"Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle.  And Moses was not able to enter the tent of meeting, because the cloud overshadowed it, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle.
Luke 1:35:
"And the angel said to her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God."

In both cases, the word used to "overshadow" is "episkiasei". 

 Mary is the New Testament, “Ark of the Covenant.” She is carrying in her womb the Lord of the universe. The Old Testament Ark of the Covenant contained three items – The Word of God in the form of stone tablets (the 10 Commandments), manna (bread) from Heaven, and the rod of Aaron that re-sprouted and came back to life (Hebrews 9:4).  Just so, the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary contained Jesus Christ – The living Word of God (John 1:1), the bread of life (John 6:48), and the ruler with a rod of iron who also came back to life (Rev.12:5). At the Annunciation of Mary, Gabriel told her that the power of the most high would “overshadow” her (Luke 1:35).  The term “overshadow” is significant, because it was also used to refer to the cherubim “overshadowing” the mercy seat of the Ark of the Covenant (Hebrews 9:5).  The Ark (Exodus 40) was very holy, which parallels the Catholic teaching that Mary is also pure and holy.  The Ark of the Covenant was so holy, that no ordinary person could even touch it.  Uzzah reached out to steady it, and was instantly struck dead (2 Samuel 6:7).  There are many parallels between the mention of the Ark in 2 Samuel 6 and Mary in Luke 1: 

• David heads to the hills of Judah in 2 Samuel 6:2-3; Mary heads to the hills of Judah in Luke 1:39. 

• David dances for joy in front of the Ark (2 Samuel 6:14); the unborn fetus John the Baptist leaps for joy in Elizabeth’s womb at the sound of Mary’s voice (1 Luke 44).  

• David says “How can the Ark come to me”? (2 Samuel 6:9); Elizabeth says, “How is this that the Mother of my Lord has come to me”? (1 Luke 43). 

• David and the Ark stayed for 3 months (2 Samuel 6:11); Mary stayed for 3 months (1 Luke 56). 

So if Jesus is “The Word Made Flesh”, then Mary is “The Ark Made Flesh”.  All of these parallels between the Ark of the Covenant in the Old Testament and the Blessed Virgin Mary in the New Testament are a branch of scripture study known as “typology”.  In other words, events and people in the New Testament are prefigured by events and people in the Old Testament.

One such typology revolves around Revelation 12 and Genesis 37:9.  In Genesis, Joseph says, "Behold, I have dreamed another dream; and behold, the sun, the moon, and eleven stars were bowing down to me." 

Revelation 12:1:

“And a great portent appeared in heaven, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars.” 

The obvious parallel is that the sun, the moon, and the eleven stars in Joseph’s dream represent his 11 brothers and all of Israel, while THE WOMAN in Revelation is adorned with these symbols of Israel.  So who is the “WOMAN”?  The first clue is the term “a great portent”.  In Isaiah 7:14 in the Old Testament, it says,

“Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign. Behold a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son and his name shall be called Emmanuel.” 

The great portent of Revelation and the sign of Isaiah are one and the same – A Virgin who will give birth to the leader of Israel, Jesus Christ.  That woman is the Blessed Virgin Mary.  The writer of the book of Revelation, St. John the Apostle, was given by Jesus on the cross to Mary as her son, and Mary was given to John as his Mother, in John 19:26-27.    This means that John knew Mary better than anyone, except for Jesus, and he is trying to tell us all something about her status in heaven.  In the preceding verse, Revelation 11:19, John tells us that he sees the Ark of the Covenant. In the next verse, Revelation 12:1, he describes the Ark for us as “A woman clothed with the sun”, a term that could only mean the immaculately conceived Virgin Mary.  The rest of Revelation 12 talks about the enmity prefigured in Genesis 3:15 between the devil and THE WOMAN, and how Satan can’t get to her.  In Revelation 12:17, it says that we are her children if we follow the commandments and bear testimony to Jesus.

Advent has just began, let us continue to seek the Christ Child until he comes.

1963 VOLVO RESTORATION "Lt Col Buddy"

Jim inherited a 1963 Volvo from his Dad in 2002. It had 300,000+ miles, sat in a barn for 16 years and was in bad...bad condition. A request to restore the car from his future daughter-in law and son began a 5 month project to get the car ready for their Nov. wedding. Yes, "five months" was the notice to get it ready for a "get away" car after the wedding. The car had been sitting in our greenhouse/workshop that was eventually transformed into a car garage/paint booth all to rebuild the Volvo. Jim named his father's Volvo "Buddy" a nick-name given to his dad when he was a child. Buddy was in bad..bad condition and the request was something he had been wanting to do, but was dragging his feet to get started. The request was a spark that lit a fire to make Jim go forward with the restoration. Oh my...five months to get it ready? That five months consumed every moment in our life. From ordering parts to researching leads to get it done. Most parts had to be ordered from Sweden and Jim was literally finishing the restoration of the Volvo the day of the wedding. Now that it is done and Jim's labor of love is complete, we have memories of restoring the car and making memories with "Buddy" at our son and daughter-in law's wedding. The following pictures are of the restoration and I end this blog page with a letter Jim wrote to his son and wife a few months after their wedding. His thoughts about the project and completion is a beautiful conclusion to a project that I never thought he would complete.

Original Title and "Buddy" brand-new in 1963

In honor of I.A Nicholson.. Lt. Col

Buddy and his Antique tags.

                                               Final work 12 hours before we are to leave for wedding.

                             Buddy is not complete.."almost" loading him up for a ride to the wedding in FL.

                                            Good Bye "Arkansas" ....

                                             "Hello" Florida!!!!

                                                    He Did It!

Grandma sees Buddy for the 1st time, in a long time.

Josh & Mel,

I have been contemplating writing this note for some time.

First, let me say the wedding was as perfect as any wedding could be. The love you two expressed for each other was incredible. Every aspect of the wedding ceremony pointed to Christ and the sanctity of marriage. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, I spoke to had never witnessed a wedding like yours. It was a tremendous witness of God’s power and grace.

Now I would like to discuss Buddy. This caused me much thought and reflection because I did not want you to think I was seeking more accolades for completing the challenge you laid before me. Sure, I liked the many complements from all the folks at the wedding, but I did not want it to diminish attention on your special day. Grandma was very concerned that I was making Buddy the focus of the wedding. I assured her many times that was not my intention and I was not driving that log. Read on.

Back when you asked me to “restore Buddy for the get-a-way car”, I had some reservations. Was the engine in decent shape? The radiator? The generator? The transmission? The rear end? How in God’s name would it get painted? Could I really completely deconstruct the car and reassemble it? As I thought about it, I was overwhelmed with the magnitude of the project. I committed to have the car ready for you, but was quite terrified of failure. Two things crossed my mine. Since his death, it had been my goal to restore the car to a drivable condition as a tribute to my dad. And, I wanted to fulfill your request to use the car on your special day. “What father, who loves his son, would give him a stone if he asked for a loaf of bread?” The Lord encouraged me to try.

I knew much of the mechanical stuff would need replacing. Disassembly was quick and I began to order parts. I soon learned that some of the parts, although available, were very long-lead. At one point the pieces were stuffed in any available space I could find. Parts were cleaned, but reassembly was not happening and I began to panic. Also, upholstery and window/door seals were ordered, but the best delivery date was projected to be “early November”. How would that work with the wedding scheduled for 14 November??? I was devastated, but, the Lord encouraged me and that still small voice urged me to keep going with whatever I could find to do.

Suspension parts began to come in and I was making some progress at reassembly. However, everything took at least twice as long as I had anticipated (I’m getting old). And, so much time had passed since disassembly it was imperative to rely on memory (such as it is) and excellent photography by Jeanine. She also sketched electrical schematics! Rather than just cut the wiring harnesses, we disassembled them at the connectors. That was the only way to get the fenders off.

Once the suspension was done, I turned to the Mighty Mouse engine. When I got it disassembled, there was plenty of good news. There was also what appeared to be bad news. One of the rod bearings was totally shredded and the crank journal looked very bad. Once again discouragement set in. After a few days of prayer and contemplation, I attempted to determine how bad the crank actually was. Several hours of polishing with various grades of emery cloth resulted in a shiny journal bearing. I consider that a miracle. Some of the engine parts were on back order, but the still small voice urged me on.

While I was waiting for the Mighty Mouse engine parts, I looked toward the body. I knew the fenders would have to be removed and prepped for paint. The doors would need to be disassembled and removed for paint prep. Front, rear and side windows would also come out. Side window seals were showing 46 years of sunlight exposure, but they had to be removed. I had discovered the seals were no longer available and if the old ones were damaged (or crumbled to pieces) it would be a major problem. There was a considerable amount of body prep to be accomplished; dent removal, rust removal, rust treatment, etc. I was about to order the primer and paint, but was greatly concerned about: 1) my capability to paint, 2) the adequacy of a “greenhouse paint booth” and 3) wondered if the weather would cooperate. The still small voice informed me that the three items listed were irrelevant if the body prep was not done and that I should concentrate on that.

Body prep moved along well in spite of my minimum experience and ability. The days were hot and humid, not conducive to painting a car. I was afraid the heat would cause the paint to dry before it hit the car and humidity in the air would cause an undesirable effect on the paint finish. But guess what? I still did not have the paint on order!

The worry turned to determination when the remaining engine parts arrived. Mighty Mouse would be assembled at last! The first order of business was to install the piston rings, then install the pistons. During assembly of the last ring on the last piston, the ring broke. My excitement degenerated into frustration. Another set of rings was three weeks away; so many road blocks, so little time. I was still debating on whether or not to rebuild the carbs myself, or have them rebuilt. (Mel will come to understand that I rarely trust anyone to work on my stuff, especially my mechanical stuff. I will never forget the famous words of my father, “If you want someone to screw it up, do it yourself!”) Well, the still small voice said, “You do not have enough time to do carbs. You will need to rely on someone else. Seek and you will find.” And found I did – ZTherapy was a phone call away. They did a top-notch job and I was relieved.

At this point in time, you showed up for Labor Day. I watched you walk around the car, look at each other and look back at the car. No seats, no hood, no doors, no fenders, no trunk lid, no engine and no transmission. The looks on your faces were priceless. Then the proverbial icing on the cake: Mel turned to me and said, “Jim, It’s OK if you don’t get it finished in time for the wedding.” Mel, what were you thinking? I had eight weeks left! (If I were you, I would have said the same thing. In fact, I was thinking the same thing, or wondering if it would be OK to miss the deadline and shatter your dreams.) I put on a strong front, but completion was looking doubtful to me. I had been developing plan “B” for upholstery – cheap seat covers from Wal-Mart, buy material and wrap the seats and even saddle blankets draped over. Plan “B” for the floor mats was carpet scraps from the local flooring store – sort of cut and paste.

I managed to get Mighty Mouse assembled and back into to his cradle. Carbs came and were bolted on, followed by fuel pump, distributor and generator. Oh yea, the generator. It looked good. It felt good. It smelled good. But, was it good? No place in Magnolia to get it checked. The kids at the auto stores don’t even know what an automobile generator is. That Saturday was long and tedious, but a confidence builder. Buddy roared to life. What a sweet sound, just like I had remembered. The still small voice said, “Finish the race.” But I said, “No upholstery. No paint. No window seals.” (Oh me of little faith!) My Better Half (I’m sure you have noticed that I married above myself) asked, “What do you need for your greenhouse paint booth?” Of course I had prepared a list. “Is that all?” was the reply. “Yes”, I said confidently. She asked, “Why don’t you build it?” I said, “Because the weather is not right.” She said, “Build it and the weather will come.” I laughed (to myself – I’m no dummy).

Well, we built the “paint booth” and continued to piddle about the greenhouse making sure everything that could be done was done. The primer & paint arrived and we waited – rainiest fall season we have had in 6 years. As the days passed, there was vanishing hope. Then an email form Swedish Treasures; the floor mats arrived sooner than expected. That was great news, but the mats would be stuffed in the corner until installation at a later date. One week later another email; the upholstery arrived sooner than expected. More great news and I turned the Chicken Coop into an upholstery shop. I had done all I could do until paint was on the car. The still small voice reminded me to be ready to paint at a moment’s notice.

Time was running out. Then with three weeks left in October, I awoke to a gorgeous Friday morning – no dew, no wind and NO RAIN. The still small voice screamed, “Paint now!”, and paint I did. The first few guns full of primer were a challenge. What is the best gun pressure? What is the best gun distance from the panels? What is the best gun speed across the panels? What was I thinking? No matter how much you search the internet, some details are self-learned.  I suffered through the fenders and the trunk lid. Not bad, but a little rough and slow. I was tired after about 2 ½ hours, so I decided to clean the gun and spend the afternoon sanding the “rough” out. It was the cleaning of the gun that set me free. I thinned the remaining mix in the gun to clean the nozzle and discovered a thinner mix sprayed like a dream. I sprayed Buddy’s nose (just to get rid of the remaining paint in the gun), it went on fast and smooth. The paint man (expert) never mentioned thinning the primer (details, details)! The still small voice said, “It’s all good. By Sunday you will be a pro.” Well by Sunday I had primer complete and felt reasonably good about the prospects for successfully spraying the top coats (total of 8-10 coats was my goal). The following weekend was a carbon copy of the previous. I put 4-5 coats on everything followed with sanding, then 4-5 more coats with the fenders attached. The paint was on, but there remained the final sanding and polishing. The still small voice said, “You’re on the home stretch. Finish the race!”

The last 2 weeks were almost around the clock. If it had not been for a loving wife and a wonderful daughter, I would not have finished. They polished chrome, devised a method to make the sun deck, determined how to cover the dash cleaned up after me and packed the “finishing kit” we took to Tampa to complete the job. Above all, they were like cheerleaders encouraging me to finish.

I said all of this not to dangle the challenges I faced in front of you, but to explain why God must have wanted you to have the car for your special day. He wanted to once again show me his power and grace.

1) God’s demonstrated power – Without some miracles and the Lord’s Spirit continuously encouraging me on, I would have failed. God has blessed me with some special skills and abilities and without them this would not have been possible. I had ample opportunity to use them all!

2) God’s healing power – I got to relive several moments I shared with my dad in Buddy; vacation trip to PA with Jenny, Jill and dad; a trip in Buddy to see the Harlem Globetrotters; a trip in Buddy to the DMV so I could take my driver’s license test. These are just a few. It was therapeutic to rerun these memories and remember the great father God blessed me with. My dad was instrumental in developing the skills I have.

3) God’s return blessing – I was privileged to see the looks on your faces when you cast your eyes on Buddy for the first time in Tampa. That was a blessing for me. If you give selflessly to others, you will receive a blessing!

4) God’s direct blessing – God reaffirmed the true love of a tremendous wife and a wonderful daughter. What blessings both are. I have been blessed by God because He allowed them to be in my life. What a wonderful God we serve!

Finally, God has blessed me with a wonderful son. In spite of my shortcomings as a father, the Father in Heaven has molded him into a fine person and will continue molding him into His perfection. Josh has chosen wisely for his covenant partner. Mel is what every father prays his son will find. May the God of all creation bless you and seal your covenant until the end of this age. May His grace continue to build your union into His perfection. Amen.

Love,

Dad