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Dusty Road Art

Debbie and Beverly's Artwork for display and comments…talk to us friends

A Rose or a Weed

I was weeding one of my flower beds after my pastor’s (JR Finney) sermon on Easter Sunday. A question came to my mind. Would your spiritual life be best as a rose or a weed? Roses are so beautiful and fragrant and our spiritual life would be amazing as a rose. Roses, however, are rather fleeting. They are not around for long and sometimes take a lot of nurturing sometimes over years before they will bloom. If you have ever done any gardening, you know that it is a constant battle keeping weeds out of the garden. Weeds are everywhere! If they were food there would never be hunger in the world. Weeds are not considered beautiful but that is a human view. Weeds take hold and spread with voracity. An alternate view of weeds is that if strength. They continue to come back as the gardener toils to remove them from his garden.

Should we look at the humble weed as an example for our spiritual lives? It withstands the hoe, the mower, and poison. If it was food hunger would not exist. If roses were food they would make little difference toward hunger. Let’s be weeds that are robust, hearty, and fight back from attempts to eradicate them. Let’s be weeds that cover our yards and fields prolifically.

I will be a weed!

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Drawing The Duke

I thought a perfect challenge for my drawing would be a famous person where the features would have to be spot on! Here is my first choice. I apologize for the picture quality. I am learning Windows 10and I need a tutor! My photos are blurry when I post them from my photo files. I will eventually figure it out by the time PC’s update again. The picture was drawn from a photo taken in the 1959 movie, The Indian Soldiers. If there is a John Wayne fan who would like to have this, I will send a better photo and dimensions. I left it in my drawing pad at my Dad’s house. It will be in mid-May before I am there again.The Duke needs a permanent home and I am most certainly a starving artist.IMGP2049 (1)

Fence Sittin’ (Personal Opinion)

Source: Fence Sittin’ (Personal Opinion)

Fence Sittin’ (Personal Opinion)

There are few things that I don’t have a specific opinion about but the issue of abortion is one where I am most certainly a fence sitter. There is no doubt that I value life and hold dear the birth of a child as I certainly wanted and adore my son. If you are not a woman who has been on the cusp of agony with the complexities of having a child from the actions of a man who is an abuser or from situations where pregnancy is dangerous to their health or an extreme hardship to care for a child the issue is not so cut and dried.

I was raped. I have no words to describe that incident and its impact on my life. I would fiercely defend another person who is being abused, but I lack the capability to do that for myself. Knowing that I am so vulnerable to abuse of any kind is fearful. We live in a world where there are men who do not care about women as anything but a place to find sexual satisfaction whatever his brute intentions may be. Where is there a place for women forced into a situation that is hopeful to bring about the joy of being a woman but actually causes fear from God’s intentions for womanhood? I have had the chance to ruminate over situations of nightmarish possibilities that included sexually transmitted disease as I sat in anguish in a  psychiatric ward suffering the sterile definition of post-traumatic stress disorder from rape.Through my tears, I saw women faced with such physical and mental abuse.I know only slightly what women of other cultures possibly feel in somewhat similar situations. These women are not treated as a worthy person.

My personal tragedy, though it did not result in pregnancy, is not the only post in my fence. I know of a young woman who became pregnant as a teenager who was forced by her mother to have an abortion by a back alley butcher. I know little about her experience at that time but I do know that she was never able to have children with her loving husband later in life.I know of a woman who became pregnant while being implanted with an IUD. There are all sorts of complications to the baby when there is an IUD in place.These two situations are only a tidbit of possibilities a woman might face. Taking away the right for women to choose to have an abortion will not keep them from happening. Would we rather see women’s health be considered or leave the pregnancy terminations to fumbling hands and rusty coat hangers? Making abortion illegal will not stop them from happening. The fear that an unwanted pregnancy produces is far too great to stop it.

Who are the people making legal abortions available or difficult to obtain? Men. A man may have a fear of another man from attack but he certainly would nor fear to become pregnant from an attack. Men have no idea what an unwanted pregnancy can be.  Women who want to terminate a pregnancy often agonize over the decision knowing that a baby dies from that decision. Ask the doctors and nurses who care for these women how much emotion goes into the decision. Most clinics provide information about what happens to the baby as the pregnancy is aborted. It is gruesome. Women who can not handle that information walk away. What happens to the child? You can fill in that blank.

When access to prenatal care and birth control is also taken away how much will the problems multiply?

I hug a deeply wanted and loved son and wonder if the children born from unwanted pregnancies are well cared for and loved. I can’t imagine what this country will be like without good women’s health. There is much more to the issue than bumper stickers claiming pro-life or pro-choice. I would like to put both on my bumper.

Walk A Mile

Walk A Mile

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I saw an old picture that I drew this picture from. It makes me think of my Dad. He turned 78 last week, but he is a million in my heart. I’ve heard a lot of his stories, and I have seen his pain from sorrow, illness and intense anger that he suppressed.

The shoes, however, remind me of the years that he worked in a factory that made newsprint. If you have ever been near a plant that produces paper, you will notice the pungent smell. Daddy said that it didn’t smell bad inside the mill from place to place, but boy when those different smells mixed it smells like a rotten green cloud than hung in the air. Daddy’s clothes and his lunchbox reeked of that rotten green cloud. His leather coat and shoes were banned to the porch.

His lunchbox was an entity of curiosity. It had that same odor mixed with the weird foods he craved that he calls “cave food.” It was such a phenomenon that on an instance when he left it at the Credit Union those little ladies who worked there thought they had seen and smelled something near death. There was a few pieces of paper towel in the bottom, but I’m sure they had not been refreshed in near a decade. It had it’s designated fork and a few packs of salt, pepper, saltines and oddities that I have no words to describe. It was grey and had a respectable amount of a mixture of years of dirt and grease. A man who works with tools is expected to be covered in grease, and his prized gray lunchbox was bound to catch a bit. Now that I think more about his lunchbox I believed the color mutated over time. The thermos was filled with very strong hot coffee, and the serving of cave food always had some kind of meat…that is all I’m going to say about the meat. The man is and always has been a cheese connoisseur. The worse it stunk the better. He imported his best cheese, by my personal standards, from a quaint German man who traveled from the plant in Wisconsin (the birthplace of cheese) to the mill in Coosa Pines, Alabama. My favorite was that smooth smoked provolone. I didn’t care to learn many of the names of the stinky ones that wound up into his lunchbox.There was a genius property to his prized lunchbox……no one would ever steal his lunch! There was a beautiful side to this lunchbox, too. On some occasions it would bring home those delicious pink snowball cakes with coconut, marshmallow, chocolate cake and a bit of fluffy cream inside.Those were for me for not making fun on his lunchbox.

Garden Time

Kenneth2When warmer days begin it is time to think about the garden. This is our wonderful neighbor, Kenneth, who plows and tills our garden. He is a wonderful gentleman with a heart as big as the moon. We are getting excited about that wondrous process of planting a seed, nurturing a plant, harvesting the fruit and eating, canning, freezing and sharing the bounty. We’re ready for the last frost.

Sing!

Singing in a choir gives the choir members the strongest connection to the worship service. The words and music are written in their minds. The joy in singing stirs a feeling that is so uplifting  that the congregation can only feel a small part of that joy.


I dreamed of a city called Glory, So bright and so fair.
When I entered that gate I cried, “Holy”
The angels all met me there:
They carried me from mansion to mansion,
And oh what sights I saw.
But I said, “I want to see Jesus,
He’s the One who died for all.”

Chorus
Then I bowed on my knees and cried,
“Holy, Holy, Holy.”
Then I clapped my hands and sang, “Glory,
Glory to the Son of God.”
Then I bowed on my knees and cried,
“Holy, Holy, Holy.”
Then I clapped my hands and sang, “Glory,
Glory to the Son of God.”

I thought as I entered that city,
My friends all knew me well.
They showed me the streets of Heaven;
Such scenes too numerous to tell;
I saw Abraham, Isaac and Jacob,
Mark, Luke and Timothy.
But I said, “I want to see Jesus,
He’s the One who died for me.”

Chorus
Then I bowed on my knees and cried,
“Holy, Holy, Holy.”
Then I clapped my hands and sang, “Glory,
Glory to the Son of God.”
Then I bowed on my knees and cried,
“Holy, Holy, Holy.”
Then I clapped my hands and sang, “Glory,
Glory to the Son of God.”singing

State Bird

This is Tennessee’s state bird, the brown thrasher. It is a dignified fellow with a long beautiful tail. Debbie has recently been trying to capture great pictures of the birds that visit our yard. She is doing an amazing job. Her camera is her canvas.Brown thrasher

NOTE FROM PASTOR J R FOR SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 2016

In reading the assigned lectionary Epistle and Gospel for this week, I thought about the part of our mission statement that says “we exist to care about one another in Christ.” There are many, many…

Source: NOTE FROM PASTOR J R FOR SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 2016

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