Seventy-Two

One of my favorites of Daddy with our girls.

My little daddy, one of the most honest, humble men that I know, is 72 today! He isn't really little, it's just what I call him. I always have. He's starting to forget all sorts of things, important things, but he never forgets a face. He once saw a lady drop a one hundred dollar bill while she was buying lottery tickets at a local convenience store. He tried to catch up with her, but was unable to as she walked out the door.

He tucked the money into his pocket, where it stayed for an entire year. I rationalized that he'd probably never see her again, she would only buy more lottery tickets if she had it, and that it was an unexpected blessing for him. As in, go ahead, spend it already! He wouldn't hear of it!

Every time he was in that same store, he looked for her. And one day, as he'd assured me she would, she walked in. He asked if she remembered dropping something a year before, in the very spot they were standing. She said, "Yes", and that it was $100.

With a sweet smile, he handed her the money. She gave him a polite thanks and went on her way. What? No hugging his neck off, squealing loudly, or thanking him profusely? No. Just a simple, "Thank You". To him, it was more than enough. He didn't do the right thing for any recognition at all. Honesty was his only motive. I love that about him.

Were there times during that year that he could have used the money to buy groceries or pay a bill? Countless! But he would have rather gone hungry or cold. I love that about him, too.

So, today we'll celebrate the sweet, simple man that he is. There will be no lavish party or fanfare. He wouldn't have it. Instead, today will be filled with his harmonica tunes, supper at "that little chicken place" as he calls Chick-Fil-A, a jar of mixed nuts he won't have to share, and our weekly Aldi trip to stock his pantry.  We'll top it all off with a slice of homemade coconut cake. That's it, and to him, it will be more than enough. And as he plays, "Get Along Home, Sydney" by sliding his lips up and down the ticklish metal of his harmonica, we'll give thanks for another year, another memory, and another example of what humility and honesty look like. Happy Birthday, Daddy!

Broken Down, Spilled Out, and Used Up

We've just returned from Kentucky on a mission trip.

 Our mission was simply to love and to serve, and to pick up where we'd left off.

For we left a part of our hearts there last year.

But we promised to go back.

And we were welcomed like family who'd come home.

 We lived, loved, and ate like families should.

Simple threads made into bracelets bound our hearts.

Hugs assured us.

They told us that even in less than perfect,

often unchangeable circumstances,

love would rise to the occasion.

It wouldn't disappoint.

But would instead, draw us to itself.

There we would be broken down, spilled out, and used up for His glory.

Not our own.

It was a good thing.

We were inspired and challenged to do more, to love better.

To love like Jesus.

To see with our hearts, not just our eyes.

Thank you, sweet Kentucky.

You always know that our hearts need reminding.

They get so hardened sometimes.

Your stories and circumstances pierced all the way through.

And our shared tears were a much-needed balm.

For both of us.

And until we stand at the foot of your breathtaking mountains again,

God keep you in His perfect care.

Image of Christ that hangs in Chad's Hope, and was created using only the artist's hands.

Senior Moments

Payton, our firstborn, is now officially, for all intents and purposes, a senior in high school.

There, I said it. 

She's a big girl now with many a milestone under her Aeropostale belt.

I've only cried once, which is good since this is merely the summer before her senior year begins.

I would hate to dehydrate from tear loss so early on.

I've had moments though. 

Several of them.

Moments when it occurred to me that this is it. 

We're about to embark on a new, never-before-written, chapter in our life's story.

How BLESSED we are though, for the privilege of the journey.

Google

 And when our Sunshine and her classmates posed this week for what will become their senior portraits, 

I began to try and form into words what I will write on her yearbook page. 

They're due by November, you know.

kristin seymour

 I hope that your life is slap-full of beautiful moments that bring sweet tears to your eyes.

This journey wouldn't be the same without them.

Bald is Beautiful

What is one to do when their heart has an absolutely special place for a certain, beautiful, bald island, and budget won't allow for staying ON the actual island for a vacation? Why, you fake it and go for the day, of course!

 While staying at Sunset Beach where Brad's parents have a quaint, little beach house, we packed up our girls and all the class we could muster, and traveled by ferry to hob nob spend the day on BHI.  

We rented a six -passenger golf cart, and rolled around the island looking much like the Clampetts with our rusty lounge chairs, cooler full of provisions, and child offspring hanging over the sides. Quite the reverse of the all-girl, carefree excursion, I was able to take back in February. Those days on the island were filled with lounging, delicious meals, quiet bike rides, shell searching, and Pandora tunes. Ahhhhh.....the memories.

 

 

 

This time around, I toured the fam EVERYWHERE that my girl posse and I had visited, except for The Shoals, an exclusive beach club area with large, abstract homes. Brad was too law abiding to go past the "Shoals only golf carts allowed" sign.

 

I, however, did unknowingly throw caution to the wind when I took the family into The Hammocks clubhouse to LOOK at the pool. They also got to gander at a gator lying on the bank nearby. To this point, our visit was an innocent field trip at most.

While there, we saw a gentleman and his children that we'd met while touring Old Baldy, the oldest standing lighthouse in North Carolina. 

These kind, unassuming folks were the ONLY ones in the pool, so our presence there was pretty obvious. Without hesitation though, our three youngest, PLUNGED themselves into the pool before I could go over the no-we-just-came-to-look-at-the-pool spill that I'd rehearsed! I jokingly looked at the man and said that if the lady at desk asked, that we were guests of his. Well, here she came!


 She asked, in a condescending tone likened only to that of those in charge of entrance into high status clubhouses, if she could help us with something. I explained that I had stayed there with friends in February, and that I wanted my family to see The Hammocks, too. She said that I should KNOW then, that the facilities are STILL reserved for members ONLY, and that such riff raff as myself and my youngin's would NOT be allowed to moisten ourselves beneath the pool waters set aside for diplomats! Well, maybe she didn't SAY that last part, but she thought it alright! Oh, she thought it!

We gathered some towels from the Clampett-mobile and dried the girls off to leave. I thanked the lady with the laser-piercing eyes and unkind, judgmental expression, and was humiliated that the man and his children had witnessed the entire exchange. His young son asked, "Where ARE you staying anyway?"


Our cover was blown! It was then known to all that we were indeed, common, everyday, Sunset Beach gypsies, who'd only gained temporary entrance to BHI, and were not, in fact, legit guests! 

We left in search of somewhere else to exploit, I mean, explore, and all the while our little ones yelled off the back of the cart that our recent run-in with The Hammocks law enforcement was FUN! So much for any biblical truths that I have tried tirelessly to instill thus far! Crime, it turns out, was more appealing for the moment.

Vigilantes or not, it was still a beautiful day on Bald Head, and I know the Lord still loves my simple, thrifty family to pieces! I'm so thankful that through grace, He offers an all-inclusive policy. Ahhhh, how refreshing!
 

If you ever find yourself in Southport, NC, hop on a ferry and go Bald for the day. You just might want to stay out of the pools.