My Heart

Yesterday was Mother's Day....We had a great day at church, but I looked and looked...for as long as I was at the front... I looked for my girl to come in.  I see her regularly, talk to her daily, but it has been a number of years since she spent Mother's Day, in church, with me.  She came to family lunch, and I did so enjoy getting to see her;  BUT, my heart is broken because she is missing from my church life... There is a barrier that seems to be always erected, one that I dare not broach, one that she built, for reasons of her own.... I am holding on to Hope  that someday she will come back... I need to have my baby in God's House with me... I love her so.....

My First Grand

FRIDAY, JANUARY 30, 2009

My First GC

Oh the wondrous works of our God! I have had the most marvelous ‘Grandmother’ experience a woman could possibly have before the birth of a grandchild! Monday morning I got up early, and with anticipation, drove to Houston, Texas. The trip was pleasant, and I arrived in plenty of time to accompany Britni, and Malcolm to the doctor’s office. The grand occasion was a 4-D Ultra Sound; the subject, my first grandchild.
The trip from their home to the Doctor’s office was filled with excited chatter! Two grandmothers, an aunt, and the parents, were all trying to express their feelings. Needless to say, we were a lively group; we were on our way to adventure.
I watched as technology brought the amazing antics of this brand new life to a video screen. There, in the most fabulous detail, I saw the handiwork of God. The sweetest little nose, arms, legs, and the fullest lips, yawning wide for our benefit, filled the screen. Those arms and legs were pumping away and looked as though they had been working-out full time. I counted fingers and toes, and I saw the tiniest hand reach out and grab the cutest little foot. There was a perfectly formed spine that arched like a bow as ‘Carter’ stretched backward. My heart was full, and my thoughts were centered on this child, mygrandchild.
Viewing this wonder, fascinated by every move, tears, like waterfalls, coursed down my cheeks. My breath caught in my throat when Carter suddenly took his thumb into his mouth and began to suckle in that age-old, life sustaining trait that is inherent to all human flesh. My God, what a beautiful sight!
As if all I had seen was only a preview, suddenly Carter’s heart could be seen, steadily pumping life blood to his tiny little body. How amazing, to watch the most intricate function of the body as it worked with magnificent perfection! The magnified picture allowed a view of four tiny little chambers, a living heart, so diminutive yet so alive.
I am still reeling with awestruck wonder. I already love this child, flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone. I will stretch in my capacity as a grandmother and do all I can to see that he learns about the God I serve. I want him to know Truth, to grow up strong, to know happiness, to be intelligent, and to make wise choices for his life. I love him, and he already fills my prayers!
I am…Grandmother.

Memories

Saturday morning, 5th of December, and I was making Oreo Cookie Balls for a Christmas party that night!  I began to giggle as my mind traveled back in time about 46 years.  This is always an interesting past time, remembering an age of innocence where kids could roam and play without worries!
In this current memory, my brothers and I were down on our knees beside Hwy 1416, encouraging our very own doodle bugs to “move it buster!”  The bugs were each rolling their own little ball of ‘cow paddy,’ and we kids wanted our beetle to win.  The cookie balls looked exactly like the doodle bug balls!
Glenn walked into the kitchen and asked, “What’s so funny!”
Laughingly I told him where my mind had gone, and we begin to reminisce about those days on innocence!
Behind our home place there was a ‘patch’ of woods where we were allowed to play for hours.  Under the cool shade of tall pines, huge oaks, and around a few squatty bushes we had created a fairy tale play ground!  We had houses with wall divisions made of pine-straw, furniture created from fallen branches, and enough kids to people each house with moms, dads, and kids.
We built caves, cooked mud pies, squabbled, had prayer meetings, and played church.  At any given moment we could shout, talk in tongues, and sing as good as any saint in our home church.  We could do the two-step like Adeline Dougharty, Glenn’s Grandmother, or we could mock to a tee, Sis. Bertie Rashall’s obeisance dance (I do not know any other way to describe it!). We would kneel down and pray like Sis. Florien Brown (sort of machine-gun style), or stand to testify and break out in song like Sis. Linnie Stivender as she waved her hanky in her left hand!
This was not mockery in a hurtful sense, rather, as children we had learned to worship God from the examples set before us; sometime our play was so real that we would be crying for real.  Looking back now, I realize that there were times that we felt God’s presence.  I can remember Delbert, my brother preaching under the anointing, and at that time we did not even know what anointing meant.
Precious Memories, how they linger!

At the Party...with sweet friends!

       

Missionaries Perdue....Friends

This is an older post...posted on a different Blog...but still meant from my heart.June 6, 2009


Dear Bro. Perdue,


Just this afternoon I sat and began to contemplate about the years of knowing you.  My earliest memories centered around the home of my parents, Elward and Eldora Jordan.  I am sure it would have been a Sunday afternoon, and there would have been many others present.  I can see in my mind the gathering of folks, most on their knees, seeking the face of God.  However, you never stayed kneeling long.  You would come to your feet and began pacing the floor, worshiping God with your whole heart, as the prayers of the saints were offered up.  
I am also sure that as a small tot, I was more interested in watching the proceedings than I was in praying!  I can imagine my eyes, as big as saucers, as I followed your progress around the room.  You never failed to notice us kids, and you would open your rather large hand wide, ruffle our hair, smile down and never miss a beat in your prayer!  It was during those Sunday afternoons that I began to see you as a hero.  
Later, when I was just below the age of the church youth group, you accepted the leadership of the Bon Wier, U.P.C. youth. I had older brothers and sisters whose age allowed them to participate, but as a child I could only look on in awe and wonder.  I remember the hugs you so freely gave us and the words of praise and encouragement as we grew older.  It seemed as though you always had time for us kids.
You truly cared about the young people, and gave so freely of you time so that they were all involved in wholesome activities.  Volley Ball games that were exciting to play, youth services with scripture matches that mostly ended with George and Roger Dale tied.  Powerful services that brought about consecration and dedication of youthful souls were sure to happen with you at the helm.  One of the most impressive things I remember seeing was a skit about the widow whose oil and meal never ran out.  Thank you for giving and giving and giving again!
Then off to foreign fields you flew to do the will of God!  The many things you accomplished in South America will only be known to all when we reach the glory world! I remember getting to see you at General Conference; how excited Glenn and I, as young evangelist would be, getting to visit with you and Sis.Perdue in the display area. We always went looking, searching especially for your booth! What fun, we knew the Missionary in a personal way!  It seemed so special to us.
We were delighted when you invited us to South America. We made memories, and got a first-hand view of the churches under your ministry!  I cried buckets of tears over the poverty in the cities we visited, yet saw some of the most astounding works of God, both in the churches and in the beautiful scenery. We were overwhelmed by the hunger for God in the hearts of the people in South America. Their seeking and worship of God helped us to understand the deep love and burden that you carry for that beautiful country and those sweet people!
And now, you are back in the States, attending the church where we pastor.  What an honor to have your knowledge and wisdom, your understanding of human nature, and someone with your ‘walk with God’, as a part of our church and community. What did we ever do without you here?  You are truly a great example to our church and a compassionate mentor to our family!  You gave me some of the best advice I ever had, when I was going through one of the roughest times of my life.  Darwin looks at you as though you were his grandfather in the Lord!  Your loving guidance in his life has not escaped our attention. 
Thank you for your daily support in prayer.  We feel the effect of those prayers all the time and need their continual out-pouring.  We Love you, and we are indebted to God for placing you in our lives.  
While I could go on and on, I must close. I am asking God to be close to you and Sis. Perdue and to save your children and grand children!    


In His service,
Debbie (Jordan) Burks
Glenn too!

Mother's Legacy

Last night as I wrestled with a physical ailment, I picked up an Apostolic Sentinel and read several comments, from various ladies, about their mothers.  The topic seemed to be about advice given by the mothers that had proven true and steadfast.  My mind immediately flew to my mom and how she prayed!  She gave advice aplenty like all moms, but the thing that has stuck in my mind with absolute clarity is the way she prayed.  My mother was not a ‘part-time’ prayer person.  Her prayer schedule included daily sessions, and most of the time she prayed two or three times a day.                                              
We lived in a small community with neighbors on every side, but across the street lived a little lady named Florene Brown.  Aunt Rene was Mother’s prayer partner.  She owned a small grocery store, and she lived as simply as any person in our rural town.  Her home however, was the neighborhood prayer room, and my mother visited it as often as possible.  Many a battle in the spirit world was fought and won by those two ladies on bended knees. While Mother managed to pray at least once a day at home, she always managed to pray with Aunt Rene too.                                                                                 
As an adult I have come to realize that the prayers Mother prayed, when everything was going right, were like a huge savings account when things went wrong.  There are times when I am sure Mother turned her face to the wall like Hezekiah of the Old Testament and said, “Oh God, remember my faithfulness and hear my cry.”  I believe that my mother’s voice was so familiar to God that he never had any trouble recognizing her or coming to her rescue.    

$50.00, 'Well Blow Me Down'

I am excited!  I am finally making my own pattern work.  A Christmas stocking customized with a name and a full-size Santa on the front. Yesterday, I looked on Itsy for knitted products, and I ran across a simple version of this Christmas stocking.  They have it priced at $50.00; I almost fainted.  I wonder......Can I do that?
I still have a lot of work to do on this pattern, but maybe......down the road!