Last week, I was privileged to take ol’ Tonka 02 and head up to the burgeoning, bustling community of Oakman, GA. I passed Oakman International Airport and took a left turn. What was the occasion? Well, William, the man who had the good sense to marry our daughter, was celebrating his master’s degree completion AND his birthday.

We had a lovely outdoor (actually under the huge carport) party with home-smoked meat, and a host of other goodies. Yummy, yummy, yummy, in our tummies, tummies, tummies!

There was also an opportunity for ministry on this trip. In addition to the celebration and ministry, Kathleen, William, and I decided to spend a few days together exploring the Blue Ridge Parkway. This was the first trip Kathleen and I had been able to take since her college days. I’ll share more about this trip at another time. Too much stuff, not enough room! (g)

Well, when it came time for me to head for home, Kathleen asked if she could send some grits to her brother Tim and his family. I agreed and hauled the grits back to Sarasota.

On the way home, I began thinking about grits. My very first connection to a “grit” was when my Grandma, Mom, and I got to stand on the street in Hollywood and watch John Wayne, The Duke, get out of his limousine at the premiere of his movie, “True Grit”. The first time I ever found “grits” on a menu in a restaurant (of course it was in the South), I had no idea what they were. So, I ordered “two, over easy”. After enduring endless hoorrahs (Texas term) from the waitresses AND the cooks, I got a quick education in the history of and uses for GRITS!

Many years later, I was serving as youth minister in a Florida church. Our youth work focused on something we called “The Fish”. This was a gathering of middle school kids on Friday nights, and high school/college/Navy folks on Saturday nights. Young people came from many different churches in our town.

On certain Saturdays, our church had a men’s prayer breakfast. I need to explain that it was pretty much “prayer” oriented in name only. Sure, we prayed for the food, but that was about it. The rest of the time was spent cooking, chatting, cleaning up, etc. We frequently invited some of the older guys from other churches (and our Fish group) to join us for breakfast. (I’ve always been very interdenominational.)

Well, when they showed up on this particular Saturday, one of them had a large box of grits with him…his contribution to the menu. Nobody paid much attention to him when he announced that he would take care of cooking the grits. A little while later, we heard this shout coming out of the kitchen. Seems that he’d never actually fixed grits in his life. He had taken a modest sized pot, added water, brought it to a boil, AND poured the entire box of grits into the pot! If you’re one of my Northern readers and have little or no experience with grits, you won’t understand what happened. GRITS EXPAND humongously as they absorb liquid.

Before long, there were wet, sloppy grits all over the kitchen. They plugged up the orifices in the gas stove. They coated and covered just about everything in sight, including the floor.

How hard would it have been for this young man to read the label, find some measuring cups, and add just the right amount of raw material? He was very bright and quite lovable! (g) BUT, he didn’t take time to read the directions. By the time he cleaned up his mess, I’m sure he WISHED he’d taken just a minute to read the directions.

“Act in haste; repent in leisure”. Have you heard that before? I’d love to hear about some of your experiences, funny or not, that involve failure to “read and follow the directions”. Please share whatever insights and spiritual truths the Lord gave you as you read and gave thought to this piece. To respond, use the “Leave a Reply” box below!  Thanks for feeding back to me.

– As you know, I’m a veteran “tail chaser”. Maybe it comes from growing up in California. What I have been realizing is that if I appraise all my activity by the question, “How important is this in light of eternity?” I can stop a lot of the running in circles. Clean house? Nope. Play with kids? Yep. People are important; things can wait. Wish I’d learned this earlier!!!

– Boy, you said it here, PapaJ!!! Each day people seem to rush faster and faster. Traffic for example is just plain stupid. Like my hubby says, “People are speeding out there on the roads in a hurry to go nowhere.” It seems as if all that matters these days is speed and greed and it makes me sad. We ALL need time to stop and smell the roses and commune with our Father in Heaven. He didn’t want us to have such a fast paced, crazy life to the point where we barely have time for loved ones, eating or sleeping. These are the things that REALLY matter. I only hope if I start chasing my tail that the Lord catches it!

– I liked this e-mail very much. Humor is an important part of life. I couldn’t stand the thought of living without humor. I am an avid dog lover, also. I have always had dogs in my life. There was a famous person, but unfortunately I can’t remember who it was, who said: “My goal in life is to be the kind of person my dog thinks I am.” I think this is very profound. If all of us would try to be the kind of person our dogs think we are there is no doubt in my mind that the world would be a much better place.

     The Lord gave us many fine things to enrich our lives. Children and family being right up there, next in line to the gift of his Son, Jesus Christ, and the love that He has for us. I believe that dogs are also one of His great gifts. All they want is love and attention and some food and water. In return they will give their all for you even their very lives. My Grandpa used to, “want to see some magic? Then he would pet the dog on the head and say, “See, you rub his head and it makes his tail wiggle.” This always got a giggle from us kids, but it truly showed how magnificent these animals are. They don’t ask for much, just some simple love that they will return in greater quantities than they receive. I really enjoy your e-mails.

-Sometimes, I think I am the luckiest person in the world. My parents never raised their voices at any of their five children. We were all raised in a loving household where we were encouraged to treat each other with consideration. My parents may not have been perfect, but they came pretty close.

     We were a religious family (Catholic). Although we frequently camped and occasionally traveled, we rarely missed Sunday Mass. Many times I heard my parents tell others there was rarely a reason to miss Mass. There was generally a church within 30 minutes of any place we might be. We drove the Alcan Highway every two years. If we were on it on a Sunday we would miss church since it could be hundreds of miles between towns. Other than that, we could generally find a church. I do remember when I was a teenager my mother missed church on Father’s Day of 1959. That was the day my youngest brother was born. The following year she missed church again because my youngest sister was born on a Thursday and she did not get out of the hospital until Sunday afternoon. Our neighbor commented (jokingly) that mom skipping church was getting to be somewhat of a habit!!!

     My mother was in a car accident in May of 1998. As a result of the accident, she was unable to care for herself. She sometimes did not know even if she had children or who my Dad was. Yet my dad continued to care for her in the family home for over two years. She could not walk or take care of any of life’s usual tasks. My dad did everything for her. He learned to cook at age 83. He lifted her from her chair to her wheelchair. He fed her when she was unable to feed herself. He always said he could not make her well, so he would just make her happy. He did this perfectly. He would tease her, tell her jokes, kiss her all the time and tell her constantly how much he loved her. Much of the time she did not know he was her husband. Yet he continued to treat her like a treasured mate. Few people as dependent as she was, receive the care and attention my mother received.

     To the credit of my parents, they raised five children who are productive members of society. None have ever been in any sort of trouble with the law. None have ever done anything that was really wrong. And all five children get along with each other even after all these years.

     I wish more families were as blessed as mine.

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