GOODBYE MODEL A, HELLO MODERN DAY

GOODBYE MODEL A, HELLO MODERN DAY

By Lillian Carol Russell

I remember as a child we had an old black Model A. Everyone we knew had a black car or black truck. Well daddy took us to the dealership to see this dream car. It had a white top over the most beautiful sky blue bottom. We were spell-bound, we wanted it so bad, and every day when daddy got home from work for a week we loaded up and went to the dealership to look at the car, it was sheer ecstasy. We begged daddy to buy it, then one day he came home and said, “Today we are going to buy the new car.” There was a lot of jumping up and down and shouts of glee until he said; “Get everything out of the car, so we can trade it in.”

Wait just a minute, nobody told me we had to give up the old car, I loved that old car, and it was part of the family. I sobbed and cried all the way to the dealership, I begged to keep the old heap, how could we just leave it in a strange place all alone. Daddy assured me that the old car had served its purpose and we no longer needed it. My joy over the new car was dampened by the lump in my throat as I watched our old black car fade into the distance. There were a lot of tears shed over that old heap of metal but it represented the beginning of change and a lesson that nothing stays the same. Sometimes in order to progress, we have to leave some old baggage behind and move forward. If we spend today worrying about yesterday, then we have no hope of a happy tomorrow. Times change, people change and places change, that is just the way it is. We have to leave some of our old baggage behind and move forward to a brighter new future sometimes. The river of life is constantly flowing & changing, the only thing we can hold on to are memories, so make them sweet and be willing to keep your heart open to make new friendships, for friends & loved ones will be lost as you travel through life. If you don't replenish, you'll find yourself all alone someday.

“Time is but the stream I go a-fishin in. I drink at it, but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. It's thin current slides away, but eternity remains.” ~Henry David Thoreau~

I've Rushed Right Into The Golden Years

Golden Years By: Lillian "Carol" Russell I suppose that as children, time seems to move slowly, I know it did for me. I was in a hurry to be grown, to conquer the world. I had dreams to fulfill, I was anxious to grow up, ready to run the race of life. As we get older, the miles we've trod on the road of life fade into vague memories. We find ourselves looking back through the gossamer veil of time, thinking a lot about yesterday, amazed and wondering where the years went. We still feel young at heart, but our bodies tell a different story. Someone aptly said that life is like a roll of toilet paper, the closer to the end it gets the faster it goes. We marvel at the brevity and often the foolishness of our youth. A wise old saying so often comes to mind now days as I watch young people speeding about with no direction to their lives: “Youth is wasted on the young.” How wise the person who coined that phrase. Youth is spent in the fast lane, for the most part in a state of unawareness of the world around. We all start out self-centered; our need is all that matters to us. Maturity begins when you think more of others than of yourself, when you realize that the world does not revolve around you. Only with age do we become wise enough to treasure each moment in life. That is why we grandparents love our grandchildren so much, we know about the ticking of the clock. We spoil them a bit because we were not wise enough to spend the extra time with our own children. We were just too busy working, running to school events and just trying to keep them fed and clothed. I am so thankful that God in His wisdom slows us down and allows us golden years of reflection. How sad it would be if we rushed headlong to the end, never fully appreciating our Lord and savior and the wonders He has created for us. AFTER LIFE'S BRIEF FLING By: Lillian Carol Russell Not a sign of a cloud in the sky today, The breeze is cool that blows my way. The trees look so sad I could almost cry, As they reach their bare arms to the bright blue sky. Around my feet the leaves lie dead, No lovely colors of green, gold or red. Soon the air will lose it's chill, Once more to spring our hearts will thrill. The flowers will bloom, the grass will grow, Once more earth will begin the greatest show. Winter like death is a cold lonely thing,  It would be unbearable without the promise of spring. My life would be the same if I didn't know, That my Savior has prepared a place for me to go. More beautiful is heaven than the rarest bloom is spring, And heaven shall be mine after life's brief fling. Because Jesus, shed His Blood and bore my pain, After the winter of my life, heaven shall be my gain . No death, no sickness, no tears will I shed there, To the beauty of heaven, not even spring can compare.

Happy New Year 2012

May we all be blessed, both you and I, as we watch this new year pass us by. ...May it not be filled as they predict with doom and fear; but hold for us abundance, good health, and good cheer. Lillian "Carol" Russell

Those of you who know me, know that I love to write poetry & short stories, it began when I got my first Tom Thumb typewriter as a child. I am enjoying the new Face Book because itallows me to record my life on a time line If you click on a year, it will give you a highlight of what went on in that year of my life. I've only just begun so there are lots of stories yet to be written. I hope to do this in 2012. I have met so many fascinating friends through Facebook. My how the world has speeded up, amazing the things I have seen come to pass since I was born and who knows what is yet to be?

It's a new year and time for a fresh new out look on life. If you keep thinking the same thoughts and acting the same way, nothing will ever change. You are the only person who can reach down inside your soul and ask God to give you the strength to make it happen. If you truly have faith and if you don't look back and you keep looking up, your life can change, I challenge you to be happy, don't let the clouds hang around your door. The Lord has told us to think on good things and I have found in my life that this works wonders. When you find yourself thinking thoughts that make you sad, change your pattern of thinking. Call a friend, get out of the house, watch a movie, read a book, what ever it takes to sideline the bad thoughts, best of all read your Bible. May God Bless us all in 2012. 

Roses & Thorns

Roses & Thorns

By; Lillian Carol Russell

So sad to watch good love go bad, these words from an old song spring forth so often lately as I watch a friend in pain.. Stay away from the thorns I keep saying. I listened to Charles Stanley when I drove the mail route every day and he was a great teacher & the Bible was his lesson book. It tell us, things that are good, things that are pure, things that are of good report, think on these things. Good things are the roses, when we let ourselves dwell on bad thoughts, those are the thorns. When we dwell on what we have lost, what is no longer ours, those thoughts will prick us and hurt us and bring us to tears.
Without storms there would never be rainbows, we are given a time of pain in our lives to toughen us up and only those we love are able to inflict the worst of pain. Sometimes they die, sometimes they just change and choose to go in another direction. If life cuts a new channel like a river changing course during a flood, it will be hard to adjust, it will be strange, but remember God does all things well and He makes no mistakes. All things are done for a reason, we may not see it now, we may not see it in the near future, we may never know why He takes someone from us. When someone dies, it might be that they were saved from facing a great pain or illness, taken on to enjoy the glory of heaven. We weep not for them but for our own selfish reasons. When someone we love decides they no longer want to be with us, that too is death, death of a relationship and the pain is perhaps just as unbearable because it is so hard to understand.
All I can say is that time truly does heal all wounds. Stay away from the thorns, look for roses, the thorns will always be there ready to prick you, but you must be careful not to dwell on them.

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.

Memorial for Josh

MEMORIAL

We were so blessed to become part of my son-in-laws wonderful family. Since we moved to Texas, we have spent so many holidays at his sister Liz's home. Family gatherings there were always filled with so much laughter and fun. I will always treasure the memories we all made together. In June of 2008, Esther, my friend and the other grandmother of my 3 grandchildren went home to glory. Leaving her threes children, her husband, her six grandchildren, her siblings and many friends in shock. Thanksgiving and Christmas has never been the same.
April 23rd tragedy struck again and took the life of Liz's teenage son Josh. There are just no words to express how much I ache for her in this time of loss. He was such a sweet, sweet boy, a life so full of promise. He is with Jesus, and his grandmother was there to welcome him home to heaven. They are smiling and know nothing of the tears and sorrow we endure here, but this too shall pass. Hebrews 10:37 ...Yet a little while and we too shall all know the joys off heaven. If we have believed in John 3:16..." For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."

 TO JOSH FROM LIZ

My first born baby, my first miracle of birth,

I hope you knew just how much you were truly worth.

You were so cute and cuddly it seems like yesterday,

How fast my little baby grew, the time just slipped away.

You had such a handsome smile, so very wise,

With those beautiful big brown eyes.

We miss you more than you can ever guess,

And time won't make it hurt any the less.

There is a hole in my heart that can never be filled again,

I've known heartache, but none like this pain.

I know you are in heaven where all is peace and joy,

But oh how we all miss you here, our precious precious boy.

The following is one of my all time favorite poems, I've read it to my grandchildren as a life lesson that nothing stays the same.

This Too Shall Pass Away

by Theodre Tilton 

Once in Persia reigned a King,
Who upon his signet ring
Graved a maxim true and wise,
Which, if held before his eyes,
Gave him counsel at a glance,
Fit for every change and chance.
Solemn words, and these are they;
"Even this shall pass away."

Trains of camels through the sand
Brought him gems from Samarcand;
Fleets of galleys through the seas
Brought him pearls to match with these;
But he counted not his gain,
Treasures of mine or main;
"What is wealth?" the king would say;
"Even this shall pass away."

Mid the revels of his court,
At the zenith of his sport,
When the palms of all his guests,
Burned with clapping at his jests,
He, amid his figs and wine;
Cried, 'O loving friends of mine;
Pleasures come, but not to stay;
"Even this shall pass away"

Lady, fairest ever seen,
Was the bride he crowned his queen.
Pillowed on his marriage bed,
Softly to his soul he said:
Though no bridegroom ever passed;
Fairer bosom to his breast,
Mortal flesh must come to clay-
"Even this shall pass away"

Fighting on a furious field,
Once a javelin pierced his shield;
Soldiers, with a loud lament,
Bore him bleeding to his tent.
Groaning from his tortured side,
"Pain is hard to bear," he cried;
"But with patience, day by day,
Even this shall pass away.

Towering in the public square,
Twenty cubits in the air,
Rose his statue carved in stone.
Then the king, disguised, unknown,
Stood before his sculptured name,
Musing meekly: "What is fame?"
Fame is but a slow decay;

Even this shall pass away.

Struck with palsy, sore and old,
Waiting at the Gates of Gold,
Said he with his dying breath,
"Life is done, but what is death?"
Then, in answer to the king,
Fell a sun beam on his ring,
"Even this shall pass away."

Belly Aching

 Since Easter I have been ill with a stomach bug and have not been able to leave the house. Today makes a week of this torment. I am getting my appetite back and Butch says I am starting to nag him again, so he thinks I may be on the road to recovery. I have felt a little better today, I'm hoping for a little better tomorrow, I've got so much work to catch up with. I was so sick I had to miss Josh's Memorial service and I hated that.

HE IS RISEN

Long, long ago; me the chubby one on the left, my sweet Aunt Kathrine  in her pink prom dress and my sister Stella on the right, both of us in our matching blue organdy lace Easter dresses wearing our white patent leather shoes. This was taken at my Grandma Wright's house back in the 50's. We had to dress and pose for this picture, be still and not blink waiting for the bright flash to blind us. Picture taking has changed a lot since then.

 I remember the bright floral curtains and I can almost smell the Old English Furniture Polish. A speck of dust never found time to dwell at her house.

Little Girls and Lace

Long ago Easter meant getting a pretty new dress from the Sears Catalogue. My earliest memory, other than chocolate rabbits and Easter baskets filled with divine goodies was sitting down with the catalogue to pick out our Easter dresses. It was the only time of the year that we ever got a frilly dress. Usually our clothes were made from cotton flour sacks. Mama always bought flour in 25 pound sacks. I remember we ate a lot of biscuits and gravy, or sometimes biscuits and syrup but what ever the meal there were biscuits and or corn bread. Those old flour sacks were pretty, just like the material you buy now days. Some of the very old quilts are made with these flour sack cotton prints. As we grew, it would take two sacks to make a dress, or even three, depending on how flared the skirt, so we had to save up sacks. My favorite, I remember to this day was a green plaid with a flared skirt that mama trimmed in rickrack.

Getting anything from the catalog was fun but the Easter dress was really special. I remember sitting for hours, turning pages and day-dreaming of owning the clothes in that book. All the pretty spring dresses of pastel colors made it hard to choose. In the end mama always did the choosing. One thing was for sure it would be made of organdy and have ruffles and lace. Back then little girls were all about ribbons, ruffles and bows. Things sure have changed a lot and it is something we seldom see now days. We always got white patent leather shoes, white lace trimmed socks and sometimes, white lace gloves. That was about as close as you could come to feeling like a real princess.

The day before Easter we went to “Bannie’s” house; that is what we called Grandma Wright, our mother’s mother. Dyeing Easter eggs was something everyone did, children and grown-ups. There would be dozens and dozens and dozens, everyone squealing with pleasure and exclaiming, “Oh look at this one!” I don’t know what Bannie used for dye but the egg colors were brilliant. For supper we ate the cracked eggs and there was always plenty.

Early Easter morning my Aunt Kathrine (Kat) and Uncle Melvin would hide all the eggs in the big pasture behind the house. After church we all gathered there for a big dinner with lots of delicious food. We kids were too excited to eat and already full of candy. We were ready to go to the big pasture; there were treasures to be found, Easter eggs were hidden over what would be at least two football fields in size. Oh to have a smidgeon of the energy that I had back then. “Youth is wasted on the young”. (I truly know what that means now!) The grown-ups were out there too having just as much fun as we were. We hunted until dark, but we never found all the eggs, we hunted for weeks after Easter, up into the summer. Of course the eggs were rotten by now but what a thrill to yell, “I found one”, long after Easter and then toss it far into the woods.

Though these things make for beautiful memories that spring forth to an old woman's heart as if it were yesterday, it's not all about little girls and lace, nor is it about chocolate rabbits and baskets full of candy and pretty colored eggs. All these things make fond memories but do not even begin to compare to the message that He is risen.

HE IS RISEN

By: Lillian Carol Russell

Think of how our Savior died,

A shameful death and stripped of pride.


He carried the cross that was His own,

Until He stumbled, His strength all gone.


They scorned Him and cursed Him and someone said,

A crown should be placed upon His head.


It was fashioned of thorns, sharp to prick the skin,

And the blood flowed down His face where they stuck in.


They placed spikes through His feet then drove them through each hand,

His body nailed firm, the cross was raised on Golgotha’s Hill to stand.


My God, My God why hast Thou forsaken me He cried,

Then taking with Him all our sin, He gave up the Spirit and died.


He hung on that cross, rejected and alone,

Taking with Him every sin, but none that were His own.


To the tomb they went to anoint Him early in the day,

They found that he had risen, the stone was rolled away.


Praise God for Jesus who rose again,

Defeated sin and death and with the Father now does reign.


Praise God for saving grace,

For Jesus who died for sin in my place.



John, 11. 25 …I am the resurrection and the life: he that believes in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whoever lives and believes in me shall never die.