Smilebox

I have added a new twist, it is called Smilebox it allows me to add music and pictures, so from time to time I will make a Smilebox application for the blog.

Growing Stronger Through Pain & Trial

I had planted a Bird's Eye Pepper and  had kept it alive through the winter in the house but it was a sickly and straggly plant. It looked more like a vine than the bush it should have been. I'd kept it, replanted the seeds almost yearly since we moved to Texas in 2000 because it was from a plant my husband's grandfather had.  Last summer I took that poor pitiful potted pepper and sat it on the front porch where it was buffeted by the harsh Texas winds and an amazing thing happened. I did not fertilized it, nor did I re-pot it yet it grew to an amazing height. The thin vine-like  plant became tree like, able to stand on its own, producing an amazing amount of tiny red peppers. I had been treating this plant with kid gloves forgetting the rule, some plants need to be buffeted by the wind in order to grow strong. This year Grandaddy's Bird's Eye Pepper is pruned, out on the porch and looking good. By summer's end it should be covered with tiny red peppers.

Often, if you want a tree or bush to do its very best, you must injure it a little by cutting part of it away. It will then flourish and be a much grander plant than if you neglect it. Most flowers are the same way. If we want them to continue to bloom, we must cut away the blossoms that have bloomed already to encourage more. If bloomed out roses are not constantly removed, called dead heading, they will stop blooming.

Back in Louisiana we had a pecan tree that though it was old enough, had never bore pecans. One day after reading an article on how to force trees to make pecans, I went out there and hammered a long rusty nail into it. After that I beat it severely with the hammer damaging the bark in a few places. The article had said that if the tree felt threatened it would reproduce, it worked, that fall we had pecans.

How often have we felt the pain of God's pruning shears? There are times when we cease to bear fruit for Him and in order to help us get back on track, He will begin to snip away that which keeps us from doing our best.

No words can express how much we owe to sorrow. Most of the Psalms were born in a wilderness. Most of the Epistles were written in prison. The greatest thoughts of the greatest thinkers have all passed through the fire.

The road of life is covered with bumps, but these trials make us stronger, these bumps are what we hold on to. Though painful the crossing, these times of despair in the long run make us better people. Take comfort in the fact that before God can use you, He will put you through the fire and in the end, there will be joy unspeakable. When things look really bad, look up, God is speaking to you. 

I've used this poem before but it just fits with this article so I'm using it again:

BUMPS
By: Lillian Carol Russell

Life isn’t always easy, some friends & loved ones are lost along the way,
Some are faded memories, gone with yesterday.

The clock of life keeps ticking, changing all the while,
Some days are filled with tears, others you greet with a smile.

If I place my heart in a box, to protect it from hurt and harm,
It will grow cold and die, for a heart must be kept warm.

The bumps in life are painful, but I guess it should be known,
Although they are rough, we use them to climb, they teach us that we must hold on.

1st Peter...Wherein you greatly rejoice  though now for a little while if need be you have been put to grief in various trials. 

The following poem was written along with a memorial to my brother-in-law Norman Russell, who was killed in a plan crash on Kronborg Glacier in Greenland. Jan. 12, 1962

DEATH'S ICY HAND

By; Lillian Carol Russell

Your mother said you were so cute as a little child,
Curls so blonde and eyes so blue with laughter in your smile.

You grew up too fast like any normal boy,
You always were all your life a source of pride and joy.

From high school to collage to Navy you went,
Thus all the days of your life were spent.

You’d met Bonnie and planned soon to marry,
We all assumed your name she would carry.

Sometimes the book of life is short,
And loved ones are left with a broken heart.

Your pages were few we all soon learned,
As the final chapter came and the pages all were turned.

Death reached out its icy hand and snatched you from the sky,
Your plane went down and all twelve on board would die.

Those who knew and loved you said you had the sweetest smile,
Perhaps it was because you would see God in just a while.

We’ve finally talked to those who found your remains in that cold and lonely place,
Where God reached out to call you home to look upon His face.

Those who perished on the flight were:
AT2 Robert A. ANDERSON 1st Technician
LT John A. BROWN Flight Surgeon
LTjg Anthony P. CASWICK Co-Pilot
ADR2 Robert E. HURST Plane Captain
CDR Norbert J. KOZAK PPC
LTjg Michael P. LEAHY Navigator
ATN3 Alan P. MILLETTE Radioman
ADR3 Frank E. PARKER 2nd Mechanic
AEAN Joseph W. RENNEBERG 3rd Technician
AT3 Norman R. RUSSELL, Jr. 2nd Technician
LTjg Badger C. SMITH Navigator
AO3 Grover E. WELLS Ordnanceman

There is a memorial on my web site:http://www.ourchurch.com/view/?pageID=190376

also the Navy has a memorial site:http://www.vpnavy.com/vp5mem.html

War is a constant and ongoing thing that will continue until the Lord returns. Let us always be in prayer for the men and women who serve, for the wives, children, mothers and fathers. Many have made the ultimate sacrifice and have given their lives for our freedom.  Pray for those who see  their comrades fall, this is something that is very hard to get over. Each night when we put our head on a nice clean soft pillow we should remember to thank God for this simple blessing as well as all our big ones and ask the same be granted for each of our soldiers, a chance to come home and place their head on a nice soft pillow in a safe bed where there is no sound of gunfire.  

TRIBUTE TO MOTHERS

A MOTHER’S HEART
By; Lillian Carol Russell

Watch her there at play,
Holding her doll in a loving way.

God gives every little girl a mother’s heart
While very young she begins to play the part.

She’ll practice on dolly what she learns from you,
You must teach her early what is good and what is true.

Like a vapor her childhood soon will be past,
And the baby in her arms will be real at last.

She’ll learn much of sorrow, happiness and strife,
While nurturing God’s gift of a new little life.

She’ll suffer every pain the child goes though,
And she’ll love them as only a mother can do.

Then all too soon will come the day,
When she opens the door and walks away.

Then once more the cycle will start,
A new baby girl, born with a mother’s heart.

TRIBUTE TO MOTHERS

I remember growing up in the 50's, it was a time before Kleenex so if we had a runny nose, our mothers washed our snotty handkerchiefs, you know that took a lot of love. There were no pampers either, stinky diapers & snotty handkerchiefs, young mothers were very busy. My first baby was before pampers, so I got a little dose of that, but I did have an automatic washing machine. I can remember wash tubs and rub boards when I was a little girl. Then came the electric washing machine with the automatic wringer, and that got my sister and I into so much trouble.

Daddy built a wash house for mama that was so special. It was a ten by ten concrete slab floor. There were four windows to catch the summer breeze and a door. The washing machine was in the middle and it had two rinse tubs.  The automatic wringer swung around to each tub. We loved wash day but it didn't come often enough to suit us. My sister and I sneaked out there one day and poured almost a whole box of Silver Dust Detergent into the machine, added water and turned it on. We'd been in trouble before because we'd played in the wash house and got my sister's hand caught in the wringer more than once. We had never dumped the detergent though, oh my it was heaven, suds rose up and out of the machine, they flowed over the edge, they filled the wash house and were flowing out the windows. They came up past our heads and we were jumping up and down and squealing with delight having more fun than kids should be having, until mama heard us and came to see what the commotion  was all about. We got a well deserved spanking, our guardian angel was really working overtime and it wasn't the first time. We kept our guardian angel pretty busy. Electric wires were hanging down to that machine and that was before the safety trip switch was invented. We could have been killed in our little escapade that day, but mama taught us to stop messing with that machine. 

There was something wonderful about the smell of white, clean sheets hanging on a line in a gentle breeze on a summer day. I remember being chased away from the sheets because I loved to run by them and smell the freshness.

We grew up in an era where our aunts took part in our raising, our grandmothers too. If we misbehaved they corrected us. When we spent time with them in the summer, they were as dear to us as our mothers. I feel like we were so very blessed to have been able to share all our wonderful aunts and learn so much from each of them. As my sister said recently; daddy's sisters were close, they shared a lot of laughter over cups of coffee. They were all hard working and very talented gals. Everyone of them could sew, cook, grow a garden, can their on food, do crafts I don't think there was much they could not do if they put their minds to it.

I was blessed enough to marry a young man who had a mother who was also a blessing to me as were his grandmothers, also Mrs Georga Fulda who was not related but was instrumental in leading me to Christ. I learned so much from them all and so I pay a tribute to all the wonderful women in heaven this Mother's Day, who so blessed my life and were so instrumental in making me who I am today. Without their guidance, who knows where the road of life might have taken me? I really miss all these special ladies and their sweet laughter.

There is one sweet aunt left of all daddy's sisters; Happy Mother's Day Aunt Bell Cutrer and Happy Mother's Day to my sister who was always there for my children.