The Spirit of God

“All good things are possible through God’s spirit within me.” ~ Daily Word Magazine

This past month has been a challenging month for me. It’s what I call a month of transition, a time when my heart tells me to end some things and begin new things. A sense of peace comes over me which helps me to make the right decisions for me. I can remember a time early in my life when I first felt that sense of peace. I was six years old (as in the picture). It was an age of awareness for me as it was when I realized that my mother struggled with an addition to alcohol and that there was nothing I could do to make her well. But what I could do was trust God to be with me at all times. I’m not sure how I knew that, but I did. I always felt there was an angel with me guiding me and supporting me and so I was not alone. I somehow always knew what was right for me.

I’m at that point again during this transition time. I went off the board of one organization, joined a new writers group, expanded my Girl Scout troop and posted everyday on my lifetimewriting.wordpress.com blog in preparation of committing to writing a complete novel in the month of November. And I also keep writing on my lifestyle blog hearthealthyboomer.wordpress.com . So it looks as though my world revolves around writing. But that is not so. As part of my leader position in Girl Scouts, I serve as the publicist for our Service Unit here in Catoosa County. My goal is to send once a week a press release, including photo to the local community paper. So far I am ahead of myself because I am making the effort to seek out what the troops are doing, going to those events and meetings, taking a picture and then sending out the press release.

And then there is my commitment to the P.E.O. International Organization (Philanthropic Educational Organization) that supports women in education. . I’ve been a member for over 37 years, having been initiated in to my mother’s chapter, AB in Louisiana. I’ve served as an officer at both the local and state level and been a member in 8 chapters all over the U.S.A.; the last one I helped to organize here in Tennessee.

It is easy to make time for P.E.O. because there is an unwritten rule that God, family, and P.E.O. rank in importance with all other commitments going after that. Another unwritten rule is to never say NO when asked to do something. In all my years I have said no three times; twice when I was asked to serve on another state board and once when asked to serve as president of my new chapter. The first time I said no I had a legitimate reason, I had gone to work full-time and couldn’t give the office the attention it needed. The second time, my husband asked me not to accept the position. Our business was struggling and he was blind to see how important it was to me. And I did not want to make things worse for him. So I took his advice and regretted it. I don’t blame him. I blame myself for not making it clear to him how important it was to me. I should have trusted my instincts and my faith in God in me. But here’s the kicker. In retrospect I realize he was right. The next three years of our life were crazy and I was needed not only at our business but with the grandchildren. It was the right thing to do; I just didn’t know it at the time.

And when I turned down the presidency of my new chapter, I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t have to consult my husband. I knew that if I was supposed to be the next president of my chapter, I would know it and say yes. The spirit of God within me guides me and gives me the wisdom to do what is right for me. That was my explanation when someone asked me why I turned the position down. And they replied with a desire to have the same kind of faith. I told them they already have it; they just have to tap into it and remember to trust themselves and God.

Fried Green Tomatoes

Fall is in the air. Opening the windows to feel the breeze in the house is delightful. Last weekend we collected the last of the crowder peas and froze them. The other night I cooked half the bag. Paige is spending the night Friday and since she planted the seeds, I thought it appropriate to share the bag with her. She loves baked beans, but I’m not so sure she will like crowder peas. We shall see.

During our hot spell, the tomatoes became stagnant, but the minute the weather cooled off, the yellow blossoms produced lots and lots of tomatoes. Unfortunately, we have to pick them before they are too ripe because we have a squirrel that loves our tomatoes. And then the other morning we woke to find ice on the car windshields. That made me think it was time to take down the tomato bed.

However, I hesitated and sure enough the warm days have returned and once again my tomatoes are turning orange, if not deep red. When the ice scared me and I thought of all the green tomatoes I figured I might as well pick a few and eat them green. Of course that meant I had to fry them first. So for lunch I sliced two tomatoes, dipped them in egg substitute mixed with a little salt and pepper, then into bread crumbs and fried them in a tiny bit of canola oil. They were light and delicious and made for a great lunch.

Every time I fry green tomatoes I think of Fannie Flagg’s book Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop. Everybody knows the movie based on the book was a huge success (and one of my all-time favorite movies.) But, in my opinion the book was better than the movie. This is because the book takes the reader past where the story ends in the movie. But it is hard to separate the characters in the movie with the ones in the book. In fact some paperback editions actually have the stars of the movie on the cover.

When I cook something that touches a memory, like fried green tomatoes do, it sparks my soul. It fills me with a sense of peace and connectedness to my own long lost relatives that lived during the depression and shared meals where fried green tomatoes were a staple.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

My Daddy loved his beer. He drank Budweiser beer from a can with a dash (or two) of salt on the lid. So when I came of age (which was 18 in those days) I too drank my beer with a dash of salt. Later I learned that I liked beer from a bottle better than a can and a dash of salt was a waste of time. And then it was about that time that I quit drinking altogether. That lasted about twenty years. That’s not to say I didn’t have a glass of wine or a beer when I went out to dinner or at a party, but never at home or on a regular basis. I had four children to raise and a hard-working husband who did enjoy his two beers a night after a long day at work.

Today my children and their spouses are all hardworking fulltime employees and all enjoy a glass of wine or beer or two after work. I can’t begrudge them that. Times have changed and they are after all grownups raising their own children. After they were all grown and gone from the “nest” I found a wine I liked, and therefore enjoy a couple of glasses in the evening while cooking dinner, but I remember the first time I asked for a glass of wine in front of my children. It was unsettling to say the least. But I needn’t fear for they were all fine with it. That was years ago and it is nice to know that today my children and I see each other as equal adults and not parent and child.

That is why I am grateful my daughter felt comfortable about telling me this story on herself. The other day she came home from work and popped a can of beer. The baby came home from daycare sick and before she could drink her beer, the doctor’s office returned her call. She was surprised to hear they wanted to see the baby right then. My daughter called her three-year-old into the room and said she was taking the baby to the doctor. The three-year-old asked if Daddy was going to stay with her and my daughter said of course and she and the baby would be home soon.

Picking up the baby and heading out the door, the three-year-old cried, “Mommy wait.” My daughter turned and asked what was wrong. Her daughter responded, “You forgot your beer.”