May23

The Pigeon

Posted on by
Standard

Usually,  I associate pigeons with city life and the parking lots that make up most of the landscape not allocated for buildings.  Instead, my pigeon decided to come to the country where there are no other pigeons and many other birds that would love to prey upon any defenseless city dweller that encroaches their territory.  There was purpose in the destination the pigeon chose, but I didn’t fully understand why until a few days later.

There have been many things that have come to my yard including abandoned,  soon to be  momma  cats  that need a safe place to have a litter.  This is comical to my friends and family because I have no affinity for cats or even birds other than live and let live.    For the few animals who make their presence known to me,  by coming to my kitchen door,  I pay attention and somehow the two of us manage to communicate.  The pigeon came to my back porch and eventually to the door.   It needed help and all I know to do is give food, water and protection from predators.  Each night the pigeon slept on the lowest eve of the porch and then during the day she stayed as close as possible to the door and porch.  Eventually, I held her in my hands and it cooed and I talked and sang to her.  She had a mate that perched upon the roof, watching and observing the care she received.  I meant to take photos of him.  He stayed with us for  several days until we had our roof replaced which is another story about the storms of  life and the bumps and bruises that happen.

On her last day with me, she perched in the water bowl I set out for her and seemed alert.   A few hours after this photo, I noticed her mate right beside her on the ground.   My pigeon must have had some bumps and bruises that I couldn’t see.  She was dying.   Curiously, her last breath occurred with her neck stretched upwards.  Her fellow pigeon stayed near her so I left her for a few hours so that he could grieve.   I wrapped her in a cloth and buried her next to Reba (my chicken).

After hanging out on top of the chicken coop, the mate made his way into the chicken run and eventually inside the chicken coop.  I feel guilty because I didn’t know if this was a healthy situation for the chickens and the girls didn’t care much for the intrusion so I kept chasing him out of their domain.  When the roofers came,  and stayed for three days,   he left and hasn’t come back.  There are some who believe that animals will not be with us in eternity.  God does not specifically say in His Word that our pets will be with us in Heaven or not.   However, the scripture says, “Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” (Matthew 6:26)

Death has been knocking all around me these past years enough to get me to tally all the losses.  Counting from my earliest recollection:  My young uncle who died in a fishing accident, my grandfather,  my young uncle due to medical malpractice,  my brother who was killed by a drunk driver,  my mother to cancer,  my sister to cancer,  my uncle to old age and there were others in between who meant much to me and others.  Their absence from this life still causes me to grieve.

Death has become a part of me so much so that I can say that I understand and embrace the hope of  Heaven beyond my own understanding.  There are many religions that promise different things in the after life.  Yet, there is no other religion that gives us the hope of eternity shared with our loved ones as was revealed to John and promised to us as believers:

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.  And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of Heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.  And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man.  He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”  And He who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.”  Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”  Revelation 21:1-5

One sure fact that we all face is D-E-A-T-H.   Atheists, Agnostics and all believers of any religion will die.  There is no escaping it.    The question we must ask  is, “If there is an eternity, where will I spend it?”

 For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.  John 3:16

May20

Fried Apples And Biscuits

Posted on by
Standard

This is a favorite breakfast around my house during the hotter months because it’s light.    My guys don’t like to eat a heavy breakfast before working in the hot sun.    To confess, I have my own biscuit recipe but Bisquick is quick, easy and I still knead and roll out the dough just like my own.

Fried Apples

Ingredients:

4         Large Gala Apples

1 1/2 Cups Brown Sugar

1 1/2 Stick Butter With Salt

Preparation:

Wash, core and slice apples thin and place in a skillet.  Slice Butter and place on top of apples.  Add the brown sugar and turn on to medium heat.  Let apples cook, stirring occasionally.   There will be a fair amount of liquid that forms as apples soften.  When the apples are completely soft or no longer opaque remove from heat and serve over biscuits.

Biscuits

Biscuits are made from Bisquick mix;  just follow directions on box.  Tip:  Always stir dry ingredients before adding liquids.  These are light, non-greasy biscuits that cook very quickly so start checking  at around six minutes.

May5

My Aunt Madge and Uncle Lee, One Without The Other

Posted on by
Standard

A few weeks ago, on my way to Round Top, I called my Aunt Madge;  and,  the love of her life, her completeness, her best friend and lover, her life long companion for sixty-nine years and my beloved Uncle Lee  answered the phone.   He chatted away asking me if I had canned green tomatoes. He sure would appreciate me bringing him some pickled green tomatoes.  Yes, he sure did love them and life and children and grandchildren and the greats and the great greats and My Aunt Madge exclusively  for a few months shy of seven decades.

My Uncle Lee served his country in the Navy during World War II.  He came home and raised two children and more generations along the way.  He was a Mason, a Shriner and an Elk.  Most of all he was the love of my Aunt Madge’s life and she was his.   My husband and I have tried to model our marriage after theirs.  After all, they have stood the test of time, they stood with us when we were married practically giving us away themselves by hosting our wedding at their lodge and cooking for days so that our guests would be served the best barbecue in Texas and that is no easy feat.

Everywhere she was he was standing beside her helping and loving everyone that came in contact with them.  When you spoke with her on the phone, the conversation was with both of them.  He would echo in the background completing her sentences and adding to the stories or the treasured advice they would share if you asked.  He was the tall dark-haired handsome man who only needed her and his family.   The measure of the man was his love of God, his wife and family.  That was all and it is everything that makes a man more than himself.

When I spoke with my Aunt Madge, she never mentioned herself or how she would cope.  Her faith in God is amazing.  She said she pictured my Uncle Lee with one of her grandsons, who had been called home way before his time, in Heaven getting ready for the rest of us while laughing and catching up on lost time.    One of her favorite scriptures is, “In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you.  I go to prepare a place for you.”   Her words were noble and praiseworthy; trusting in God who she knows so well.  All the people she had come in contact over the past few days in the hospital and while making arrangements for his burial,  she appreciated and praised their efforts.  Her neighbors and family who are beside her were her concerns.  She never mentioned herself, not once.

My Aunt Madge took time in her grief to give me words of encouragement to tell me to hold strong to my marriage.  That most marriages end because one or the other spends too much, to enjoy life and not worry about the material things because nothing, nothing at all, can be taken with you.  She wanted me to hear that loud and clear.  She said I have a good husband.  We are doing a good job.  I just wept.   How can someone stand so firm at such a time?

Hubert Lee Langston, Sr., was eighty seven years old, married Fanny Madge Collins sixty-nine years ago.  Together, they have a son and a daughter and five grandchildren, eight great grandchildren, numerous great greats.    His latest goal was to make it to seventy years with his best friend.   His legacy is to love all others before yourself.

Uncle Lee, well done, thy good and faithful servant.  To God be the glory!

May2

The Pineapple Mexican Wedding Cake

Posted on by
Standard

This is the all time most searched on the web and most read post on The Irish Lady blog so here it is again and worth every bite of it.

Scrumptious AND  E and Z is what this cake is!   So easy, just dump, stir, pour, bake and frost.  I made mine in a To Go container to take to my sister.  Favorite cake, is putting it mildly for her.    She can eat the whole thing and loves it.   Happy Birthday,  sister!

Cake Ingredients:

2    Cups Flour

2    Cups Sugar

2     Teaspoons Baking Soda

1  1/2  Cup Pecans

2      Eggs

2      Teaspoons Vanilla

1       Can Crushed Pineapple (20 ounces)

Preparation:

Preheat oven t0 350 degrees.  Spray 9X13 pan  or a bundt pan with cooking spray.   Add all ingredients and mix by hand.  Pour into pan and bake for 40 minutes for the 9 x 13 or 50 minutes for the bundt pan.  Cake will spring back when touched in the center.   Cool completely and frost with cream cheese frosting or just buy some if you are really in a hurry.

Frosting Ingredients:

1        Package Cream Cheese (8 ounces)

1         Cup Sugar

1         Stick Butter (1/2 cup)

1          Teaspoon Vanilla

Preparation:

Blend well with hand mixer until frosting is creamy and not sticking to the beaters.  It creams more as you beat it so don’t go to far because it becomes runny.

Apr24

Behind This Door Is…

Posted on by
Standard

Behind This Tall Skinny Door Is…

A Dish Pantry

Stacked

On The Floor…

And

On The Walls…

Just a peek while you can see the floor.  Usually, the dish pantry is the “catch all” for things that don’t have an assigned place in the house.  When rumors of a gathering or party start rumbling around, I get around to organizing it again.  The dishes stay in their places all the time which is why I appreciate what is behind this door…a dish pantry.

Apr21

In God’s Box

Posted on by
Standard

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

It’s no secret in our house that I go through long periods of no sleep where I prowl, as my sons say, around the house and pray.   My guys are no longer afraid if they wake up and I am sitting in the chair in their rooms praying.  I’ve been doing this for years.   I pray for their wives even though they haven’t met them, but God knows who they are,  and I pray that He keeps my sons on the narrow path and they raise generations of godly children.  I’ve prayed for all their concerns like making friends, doing well in school, getting their first truck, college, jobs and the list goes on.  They know that if they are up to something I will know because God somehow shows me or they actually tell me themselves much to their dismay.  This is something they haven’t figured out how it works, but they will when they have children and pray for them.

Having shared all of this brings me to the main part of this post,  I always wanted my mother to pray for me and felt that if she had prayed early on for her children maybe the decisions I made in the past that hurt so much could have been prevented.  My mother came to Christ after my oldest son asked her where she would be when she died and would she like to be baptized with him.  I am sure the Lord had planted seeds long before my son spoke with her and he just helped as only a favorite grandchild has a way of getting things done that seemed impossible before.    They were both baptized at the same time when she was in her seventies and him at twelve.   She was a babe In Christ and was working out her faith the few years before she died.  Admittedly,  I have been jealous of  friends whose mothers have been praying all along.  I have literally mourned the loss of something that was never available to my mother’s children until later and then limited.   There is nothing so powerful as the prayers of a mother for a child and somehow I felt that I have been left out.   I am grateful that my mother knew God, even so late,  and I believe that she is in heaven with Him today; perhaps, praying.

My sister, Sandra who passed away a year ago, was thirteen years older than me and my reluctant mother who was there for me when my mother could not or would not.   I have been mourning the loss of not just a sister to sister relationship,  but the comfort of knowing,  that no matter what,  there is someone else in this world that understands and will take me in unconditionally.   As most of my fellow floor walkers and sister warriors of prayer know, this stuff hits you in the middle of the night mostly between one and four in the morning.    I have been missing her so very much lately, especially at during sleepless nights.

In the early hours I had a dream that my mother called and told me, “you need my help.”  Strange, I always tried to avoid needing her.  Then the dream progressed and my sister came to me and while hugging me whispered in my hear, “You are in God’s box.”   For weeks I have pondered that expression!  Don’t tell the sleep depraved, over analytical,  pre-menopausal, grieving basket case something that you don’t want her to pick apart for days on end.

“In God’s Box”, does that mean I am like Jonah in the belly of the whale and about to be spewed on to the beach.  Is God so unhappy with me because I can’t seem to figure out what or where He wants me right now?  Am I not doing something I should be doing?   On and on my brain bandied this about and it went this way for about a week.  I mentioned it to my sons and they had been thinking of their grandmother and aunt and missing them too.   What does this all mean???

Lo and behold!  It’s one in the morning.  No surprise, I am awake.  ”…In God’s Box.”  ”You are in God’s Box.”  ”…In God’s Box.”   Just google it, silly girl, and so I did.  Here is what I found:

God’s Boxes
Prayers and reflections from an Irish web designer in Galway

 I have in  my hands two boxes which God gave me to hold.  He said, “Put all your sorrows in the black box, and all your joys in the gold.”

I heeded His words, and in the two boxes both my joys and sorrows I stored.  But though, the gold became heaver each day.  The black was as light as before.

With curiosity, I opened the black, I wanted to find out why.  And I saw, in the base of the box,  a hole which my sorrows had fallen out by.  I showed the hold to God, and mused, “I wonder where my sorrows could be.”  He smiled a gentle smile and said, “My child, they’re all here with me.”  God’s Boxes!

I asked God why He gave me the boxes.  Why the gold and the black with the hole?  ”My child, the gold is for you to count your blessings; the black for you   to let go.”

 

Apr19

A Man After God’s Own Heart

Posted on by
Standard

A little while ago I was given a copy of my great great grandfather’s death notice.  It would not have been a typical obituary, as we know it today, where the family provides the information of the deceased and pays for the space in the paper.  Instead, the death notices, as it were in the early part of the past century, were written by the local journalist or newspaper man.  To my understanding ,  that would mean that you could not control the sentiments of the newspaper; instead, you would be at the mercy of the truth or public opinion about the way you lived your life.   That’s what makes this so meaningful to me and I wanted to share my great great grandfather’s write up with you just as it was written all those years ago (emphasis mine)… A man after God’s own heart:

P. B. Collins

P. B. Collins was born June 5th, 1841, and died January 26th, 1927.

He was married three times (twice widowed), and to these unions ten children were born, seven of whom are living,

these, together with his wife, forty-one grandchildren and twenty-two great grand children.

For more than twenty years, he has been almost blind, and for quite awhile entirely without sight.  Altho’ confined to his room for several years,

he never failed to teach and exhort, any who would call on him, from his one book, the Bible.

His father, F. B. Collins, was born in 1799 and owned a family Bible printed in 1828.  This book is still

in the family and many nights has our beloved brother Collins read this old book by the light of a campfire,

when he could not have good light (he was part of Lee’s guard in the war between the states), and to the very last,

he retained much of the valuable knowledge he obtained from it.  His life was one of humble service to his master and a worthy example

to all who knew him.  For many years he has been a faithful member of the Church of Christ.

His desire to have a short Christian service at his burial, and to be put away in a home-made casket, as were many of

his people, was granted, and Mr. Pybus made a beautiful casket, and from the old Bible was read his favorite

passage of scripture (The 23rd Psalm shown in his own writing below) as his body was laid to rest in the Palacios cemetery.

(His favorite passage written by his own hand.)

Humble is an understatement, this man has an incredible story to tell: one of endurance, perseverance, hope, and undying faith.  His story starts out with losing both parents and then his closest relative.  He was a war hero, a widow, a father, a pony express rider, lived through the Texas range wars and carried The Bible with him through it all.   Keeping the words  and quoting them just as if he could read,  I imagine he could see them with his heart.