It's About Hope

...YES, IT IS!!!!!
So many times in our lives we can find SOMETHING to complain about.
I recently posted the words to a gospel song on my faceBoOk page..."I Won't Complain".

Lyrics to I Won't Complain :

I've had some good days
I've had some hills to climb
I've had some weary days
And some sleepless nights
But when I look around
And I think things over
All of my good days
Out-weigh my bad days
I won't complain

Sometimes the clouds are low
I can hardly see the road
I ask a question, Lord
Lord, why so much pain?
But he knows what's best for me
Although my weary eyes
They can't see
So I'll just say thank you Lord
I won't complain

The Lord Has been so good to me
He's been good to me
More than this old world or you could ever be
He's been so good, To me
He dried all of my tears away
Turned my midnights into day
So I'll just say thank you Lord...

I love this song! It says EVERYTHING! And, the REV Paul Jones sang this song with such truth, such HOPE.  Job, himself, would have been proud.
The Father of ALL creation KNOWS my plight.


When I finally sat down and allowed myself to grieve the loss of my home, there was ONE thing. ONLY ONE THING, that I wished that I had not lost in the fire! ONE THING!!! Can you believe it?...

About 12 years ago, we had family portraits made.  The kids were still young enough, and enjoyed playing dress up.  We still owned 'the pumpkin', a 1975 VW Beetle, that was of course, pumpkin orange, and my dearest friend Sharon, had affectionately named, "the Pumpkin".

The photographer, Deborah Shelton, really has a creative eye when it comes to "catching" personality on film.  She spent some time with the family, learning about our lives, our travels, our likes and dislikes and our HOPE.  She did this, so that she would be able to, "capture our family on film".  And, she did....

In one of the poses, she had us leaning on, standing near, or laying on top of the 'the Pumpkin'.  In another pose, she had us sitting or laying on one of Memaw Boykin's old quilts, in the yard.  A quilt that Aunt Gerty had given to Memaw, years ago.  But, my favorite shot was one of just the kids.  That one, was actually titled, with the help of an old friend, Ed Reynolds.  When Ed saw the large portrait the first time, and I told him that it needed a title, he said, "That's easy, 'Stealing Texas Thunder'." THAT, said it all! The man is a genius!

In the portrait, the kids had dressed up in their favorite dress up clothes, with a little prompting from Deborah. 

Aunt Susie, my younger sister, has two daughters, Nicole and Kristian and a son, Jacob. When her children were young, they loved to play dress up.  And, Susan had a big bag of dress up clothes that she had gathered over the years for them to play with.  But, by far, the MOST sought after dress to wear for ALL the little girls who had the pleasure of getting to play dress up, was the RED PROM DRESS. And, as Susan's children out grew the desire to play dress up, Joshua and Jeannie grew into it and 'inherited' the bag from their cousins.  And, the RED PROM DRESS, was my daughter Jeannie's FAVORITE!

The kids came out of the house in their dress up clothes.  Joshua, in his jeans and cowboy hat, with a guitar that Rosa had given to him, in his best Garth Brooks grin!  And Jeannie, in the coveted red prom dress!  They were JUST standing there, cutting up, while Deborah set up her camera. And, just in a moment, without warning, Deborah snapped a shot and captured "sibling rivalry".  Boy, she's good! I don't recall whether or not it was on film, or digital.  All I know, is that it was my favorite photograph of the kids, and we had purchased a large portrait of the shot, from Deborah.  And, it vanished, without a trace in the Bastrop County Complex Wildfire.

I thought about the portrait for over a month.  And, I thought about Deborah.

I had done a Internet search for Deborah shortly after the fire, only to find an article online that reported that she too had lost her home in the fire.  Avoidance, set in...  Thinking the worst, but hoping for the best, several weeks passed, and then, I finally made the call to the telephone number that I had found online.

Sweetness, answered the call.  That's all I can say!

Deborah and I, reminisced for over an hour.  She too, was displaced by the fire and not only lost her home, but the family business AND her years of photography, since she had moved her studio to her home.  And, she wasn't sure what she had made it out of the house with, when she had to evacuate.  But, when she got to a landing spot, she would look through her things and see what she could find.

You can only imagine how my heart LEAPED! When a few weeks later I received an email from Deborah with the words, "LOOKEE what I found!" And, THIS as an attachment...
My heart felt like it would EXPLODE it was sooo FULL of JOY and HOPE!!!

 ...and to hear her tell, how she grabbed the camera case while she was evacuating the fire. Only to find, in her search for the portrait, her old HARD DRIVE with THOUSANDS of photographs, instead of a camera in the case!... to know that there is NO SUCH THING as a coincidence for the Father's children! Just SURPRISES filled with JOY and HOPE and LOVE!!!!!!

Just remember that, the next time that you think you are 'running' something.
He's got it, ALL UNDER CONTROL.

Beauty for Ashes and a Little Blue Cross

As, I walked around the forest this morning in my husbands house shoes, I saw the majestic beauty of the forest as she lay quietly among the ash, contemplating her next design with the enthusiasm of Donatella Versace. "What magnificence shall I birth today?"

In the aftermath of the fire with so many suffering loss, it may be hard for some to see the beauty that lays just beneath the surface. In the world of botany, the higher the ash content of fertilizer, the bigger and more colorful the blooms.

As I walked, I saw the thistles who have triumphantly spouted forth new growth among the ash. And, as much as I have hated them in the past during the spring, picking wild flowers on the roads near the thicket, I welcomed their color and fortitude. Even the majestic post oaks that burned have birthed new colors of pink, yellow and green at the bases of once adolescent trees who stood their ground in the heat of the raging wildfire.

 I am thankful for the hope that lies within. I am grateful for the opportunities to instill hope in those who are hopeless. And, there are many of these, but there is also a pioneer spirit in Bastrop County that says, "We will rebuild, by the grace of God!" And, I am one of these.

We all go through storms in this life.  Some weather them better than others. I really feel that it is the duty of those with hope to share their peace and hope with those who are struggling. Some will be comforted.  Some will choose not to be.

For years I have collected crosses. I began collecting them back when we first bought the Conestoga, (aka the RV) and set out on our journey to explore central Texas and find our piece of paradise that we could call home.

 I know a lot of people who collect things. Some collect crosses, some collect paintings, some collect antiques, some collect dolls and some collect treasures that only they see as beautiful. I have enjoyed collecting, and have cherished cultivating hope in the hopeless.

When I purchased my first cross, it was a small cobalt blue ceramic one from Mexico that Sharon and I had found on one of our adventures to Las Flores, Mexico across the river from Progreso in the Rio Grande Valley of south Texas. It was simple and small, and perfect to hang on the wall of the RV to start the collection. We were so pleased with the simplicity of our two dollar find. This was shortly after I had received by the Grace of God, the simple understanding of the magnitude of Christ's sacrifice on the cross as "A Complete Work." What an awesome new experience, and what better way to celebrate the REST, that I had entered into by this glorious divine revelation than to begin collecting remembrances of His work.

I had a very nice collection. A few were purchased by me, but then it began to become an adventure to my friends and family as well, as they joined in on the conquest to find crosses of every material imaginable to add to my collection. Then, there was the fire.

The fire took a lot of things from me. But, it could not take my joy, it could not take my peace,
it could not take my hope and it could not steal my sense of humor! I know it is twisted sometimes, but it is mine. ALL MINE!!! LOL
But, GOD...

As I sifted through the ash with my husband, post fire, we began to find the remnants of the cross collection. Time after time, shovel full after shovel full, we came up with the pieces of a once admirable collection. Many charred beyond recognition or melted into a heap of shining fused metal and some just crushed enough to appear whole until you tried to pick them up, only to have them crumble between your fingers when you did. But, then GOD...

I had pretty much resigned myself to accept the fact that the collection was history. And, I was even okay with that. I'm a pro when it comes to starting over, and new beginnings. I've had plenty of practice in this life. My roots make me a resilient contender and pioneer, REALLY! I had already decided to start a new collection when Shelton handed me the small intact charred cobalt blue cross. The first born of the collection! I was elated!!!! It was never my favorite, but it was the FIRST. And, there HAD to be some significant reason that THIS one had survived. I placed it carefully at the base of a large pine that did not burn, with a tea cup from my German china that had been gleaned from the rubble for safe keeping. And, continued on my quest.

Later on in the day, I commented to my hero with the chainsaw that the large pine was perilously close to where we would rebuild. And, that I would really like it removed before reconstruction began. After one phone call to the daughter to move her street racer, or suffer the consequence of having a large pine as a hood ornament, the Civic was moved, the chainsaw revved and down came the tree! I was delighted! That is until I realized that THAT was THE TREE where my treasures had been placed for safe keeping!

I gingerly strolled to the base of THE TREE, expecting the worst, only to find that the cross AND the tea cup BOTH were within inches of pulverization, yet had once again dodged the bullet of destruction.  This time, they were both wrapped and placed carefully in the Expedition.

A few days later, I had to make an unplanned trip the valley. While packing what few clothes I had managed to flee the fire with, I began to considered the scenario of the small blue cross. Still fully knowing that there was some significance in the survivability, the blue cross hitched a ride south in the big red purse.

Shortly after arriving in the valley, I received a phone call from my dearest friend entreating me to join her on a mission to bring comfort to our new friend who was devastated at some very heartbreaking news. We met at our friends business, unannounced toward the end of a work day with a bottle of smooth red wine. Our intent was to encourage and show our love and concern for our new friend, and offer "friend shoulders" for support. When we walked in, the HEAVINESS of our friends' heart was tangible! BUT GOD...

There were still a few late afternoon clients left to be seen, so we planted ourselves on the sofa and made our selves at home, while our friend poured the wine and inquired as to what honor was owed for the pleasure of our unannounced visit. "We just came by to love you, show our support, drink a little wine and bring hugs." With that, a tiny smile void of all hope, peaked through.  Our friend was drowning in a deluge of emotions, and we brought wine!  You have to know our history, and how we first met to appreciate how truly appropriate the wine was. But, that's another day and another story. His eyes moistened with tenderness, and I swear I heard my ribs crack, as he hugged us like his life depended on it.  It did.

For the next several hours, between clients and sometimes with clients, he revealed unabashedly the events leading up to the present devastation caused by the life crisis that had swallowed him whole, leaving little room for air. He needed to unload, and he did. We listened, encouraged, cried and hugged. But, what we wanted to do more than anything was to love our friend by showing support and instilling hope.

As we talked and encouraged, shared and teared, I looked at Sharon and quietly said under my breath, "I have to give him my little blue cross." Her eyes filled with tears as we saw the message of hope through the tenacity of the message of the little blue cross, that had become my favorite as the only survivor of my collection by not being destroyed by fire, nor by tree.

I took the charred little blue cross from by purse and began to share with him the story of hope and the grace of God that we were not harmed though our home was consumed. And, like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, The forth Man in the flames would walk him through this life fire, too. And, not even the smell of smoke would be upon him in the end.

Though he protested, I insisted that he accept my cross as a gift, and find a place among his own extensive collection of crosses that hung on the wall behind him. So, that when he felt dismayed he could look at the little blue survivor and remind himself, that like the little blue cross that suffered in the fire, he too would survive by the grace of God and the Spirit of God, the forth man in the fire. And, that the char was only a reminder of the trial, but the cross was a reminder of the faithfulness of God to preserve him. He then vowed without another word to always cherish the gift of hope in the little blue cross, and smiled warmly as the Spirit of God through grace, gave hope to the once hopeless.

Two witnesses, one bottle of wine, one divine appointment, and the grace of God.  God is sooo good, ALWAYS!!!!!!

Searching for the Pearl

As I sat in the ash and sifted for my son's high school ring that had been laying on his dresser before the fire, I had the thought, "Lord, I just wish that I could find my nursing pin."
I had EASILY spent three hours sifting through the debrie when that thought came to me. So I moved over to where my bedroom had once been and began to shovel and sift. I shoveled for what seemed like an eternity, an endless heap of nothingness. This ash had once had a purpose. It had once meant something to the family who resided here. Now, it was nothing more than an inconvenience, and stuck to everything like a magnet. I had spent considerable time sifting this area the day before and found nothing. Zip, zelch...nada. It was one of those still small voice moments.  I had the IMPRESSION that I needed to move back to the nothingness where I did not even find hope in the ash the day before.
I took my bucket, shovel and sifter to the far side of the house and began to sift again. Over and over again, I came up empty handed. Somewhere beneath this ash lay a VBMC nursing pin. My nursing pin. It probably had no value to anyone, other than the one that earned it.  And, I had earned it by the GRACE of God.
This little blue shield with the white cross in the center marked the beginning of my walk with the creator of the universe. It was the Sunday before I started nursing school, and when I graduated the following year, there was absolutely no doubt in my mind that I had personally received a priceless gift in this magnificent peace that had been bestowed upon me. God's hand had been on me the WHOLE time. And, even some of the time, I was aware that it had been, What a blessing, what a milestone, what an accomplishment, in Him. I KNEW I had not done this on my own! Yet, the Father began to remind me WHERE I HAD COME FROM. I thought back to the late nights, fighting with myself. KNOWING full well that an exam the next day could make me or break me! Fail one final in the accelereated program and you would be waved off base like an forced runner tagged at home plate after making it ALL around the bases. But, I was more hungry for God than I was for a nursing diploma. So ,I would pray and say," Lord help me to remember the answers for the test tomorrow, but today I want to spend with you." And, I would proceed to consume the word of God like a starving refugee. And, He was faithful, IS FAITHFUL. I graduated second in my class and also achieved the HIGHEST state board exam of any of my classmates. And, I knew why. I had the inside scoop. Because, I read in His word that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him, and I did. But, even more incredible! He showed up and changed my life, healed my broken heart, my direction and my desires. And, He turned my nothingness, my mourning, my ashes, to beauty. Here in lies the hope in the ashes.
So, I shoveled and sifted. My husband was exhausted and had his fill of the ash heap that used to be our home, so he headed back to Smithville, calling back to me, "Don't stay late, you've been here long enough for one day." But, I was a woman on a mission.
As I sifted I began to talk to the Lord. Please show me a sign that I'm digging in the right place, but nothing. But, I knew what I had heard when I was looking for my son's ring, "MOVE." And, I did. But, so far I had come up empty handed. So, I began to talk to Daddy God. "Remember the story in the Bible about buying the whole field in order to obtain the pearl of great price? As I'm digging in this ash, I bet it was kinda like digging in the ash when you found me, huh..."
As the sun began to set, I went back to the car to get my glasses.  In the diming light I was having more and more difficulty distinguishing shapes.  Then, my cell phone rang, "Barbara, it is time to come home NOW!", Shelton pled.  In the diming light, I surrendered to good sense and decided to call it quits...after one last shovel full.
As I tossed the ash towards the sifting screen, I caught a glimpse of something BLUE flying through the air and heard THE SOUND of metal hit metal. I fell to my knees and carefully began to move the ash back and forth over the screen until my fingers felt the familiar shape of the shield of VBMC School of Vocational Nursing! And, then I said, "THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU, LORD!"
I laughed, I smiled and then I twirled in the ash, clutching the tiny blue scorched token of His love and faithfulness towards me. And, THEN I began to cry.
It had been almost three weeks, twenty days to be exact, since the Largest Wildfire in recorded Texas history had leveled my home, that Shelton, and John and the boys had spent five years building without a mortgage. I was thankful, joyful and exceedingly beyond anything imaginable BLESSED to tears.
I got in the car with MY pearl and began to drive back to Smithville, pausing briefly to call Shelton and share my good news. As my throat tightened, I squeaked out, "I found my nursing pin!" And, then I began to cry, sobbing  as I drove, without restraint, for the ten miles back to Smithville.  It was the first time that I had been able to cry, not just shed a few tears. CRY! SOBBING! SNOTTING! Breathlessness! And, it felt GREAT!!!! It was pure JOY, unleashed.
He was waiting on the front porch when I arrived. I was spent, but still on my euphoric high of experiencing God's touch, even in the midst of such incredible devastation.
So, if you ever wonder WHY I encourage with the words, "Nothing comes OUR way without first being filtered through the fingers of God"...and "We may not see the good in anything as devastating as this fire, BUT GOD sees the beginning from the end and HE will use it for good and already HAS in a lot of ways.  God is good, ALWAYS!!!! 
Just listen to the hundreds of stories of hope related to this fire., look at the charity this county has shown toward one another. And, thank God for little blue glimpses of hope.