Ramblings

I'm listening to an old hymn, At Calvary, written by William Newell, and it brings back memories of my childhood days singing beside my mama and grandparents at Central Baptist Church. How I miss them, and hearing them sing. Perhaps that's why I find such solace in music, but not just any music, but music that lifts up the Name of Jesus. A couple of weeks ago I dropped by the church at Church Road, and I spoke with the pastor, reliving the times there and all the people who have gone on to glory. Many family members of friends of my grandparents' remain a part of the congregation, so the visit was like going home.

There are many happy memories making my decision to return home a good one. Relocating and basically starting over is never easy, but for me it was almost impossible leaving my daughter, close friends, family members on my husband's side, and returning to a place that is no longer the same. I've mentioned before that I get lost in the maze of shops circling the Colonial Heights Southpark area. Not to mention how the interstate connects in so many small towns. It seems so surreal to me how much villages I knew as a youngster have grown.

Today I stayed close to home, checked a few "to dos" from my list that seems to get longer each day. Sometimes I think a part time job would help me use my time more wisely, but then, maybe I'm using my time in the manner it should be used. That's why I'm taking things slowly, focusing on the most important person first and foremost as I make my plans.

My son and I have established some routines. Friday is movie night. Tonight we watched a Stallone movie from years ago, Demolition Man. It was futuristic and a bit hokey, but okay. I really don't like movies with bad words, but it seems as if that's all there are. Each week we switch off on who picks the movie, so next week will be my week. I have all week to consider. My daddy has tons of westerns, especially with John Wayne. I love visiting those old movies, remembering my times with daddy. There are many memories in this old house.

Hopefully, in a week or so, my sister and I will be taking some excursions to places we used to frequent on my previous visits. I have always loved Williamsburg and Charlottesville, so they are definitely on the list. We used to talk about traveling the mega yard sales that span a mile or longer where many artists sell junk art. As an artist myself, I love to see how imaginative others can be with castaway items. "Another man's junk is another man's treasure," as the old adage goes.

I also want to plan a trip to DC, as I'd like to walk the streets and pray over the nation's capitol for a return to freedom and sound government. And yet, doing so, puts me in harm's way, because it seems that my love of God and country make me wrong. That is very sad. I noticed that not as many people even celebrated Independence Day this year, as if the flag was taboo. It is so sad to see the things that should never be. There is only one way to fix things, because it is a heart issue. Jesus is the only answer. I'm listening to a song as I write this blog. I hear the words, "Just call out His name...Jesus; call out His name...Jesus; call out His name...Jesus, and He will come to you." 

As I end my day, I shout out His name, and He runs to me.  He's in my song, in the breeze that blows lightly into my window, and I invite Him into my dreams. Jesus...Jesus...wonderful name! As I close my eyes, I pray..."Come, Lord Jesus, come...."