Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Mom and Dad's House Flooded ~ Rosewood in Distress


Unless you follow me on Facebook, you haven't heard that my sweet mother and daddy were one of tens of thousands whose house flooded during Hurricane Harvey's wrath. Thankfully, they had evacuated before the flooding occurred. Last Friday was the first time they were able to go back into their home, a day we will never forget. 

Everyone says you should prepare yourself, brace yourself, understand that what you will see when you walk into a house that has been under two-feet of water for more than a week will not be pretty. I looked at dozens of photos that friends posted on Facebook. Some left me saying things like, “unbelievable” over and over. 

I thought I was prepared, but when you’re standing in the familiar doorway of the house that has been called home since 1970, the house we fondly refer to as Rosewood, and you see the devastation that is there, you realize there was no way to prepare for such a moment. 


Rosewood in all of her glory.
Hundreds of my friends, and tens of thousands of people across Southeast Texas and parts of Louisiana, know what I mean when I say the first few days inside a flooded home are excruciating—long and grueling, hard on the mind, body, and soul, with moments so deep they cannot be expressed. If the destruction of a flooded home doesn’t humble you, and doesn’t bring out the compassion in you for your family, and for friends and strangers alike who may be going through the same thing, then I’m afraid you may be missing a heart. 

It's not for the loss of "things" that we grieve, but it's the trauma, especially for the elderly, of losing a lifetime of so many things collected through the years, and being so displaced at this stage of life. My father has been very confused at times, unsure of what is going on with Rosewood, and it breaks my heart. I want to bear it all for them. The good news is, there is One who said, "Come to me, all of you who are weary, and I will give you rest." God has made Himself known throughout all of this, in big and small ways, and we know He can be trusted. 



I don't know how much of this journey I will share; some journeys are personal, but I may share more as time goes by. If you don't see me here, you can find me on Facebook. I post to a "friends only" audience, but occasionally go beyond that scope. If you want to be friends, send me a note.

Mother asked me and Gayle to thoroughly document everything in pictures for the insurance company, and between the two of us, we have some great photos. Initially, I didn’t want to share any photos of Rosewood, then I wanted to, then I didn’t. I'm not sure if I will or won't. The jury is still out.

Frankly, if walls could talk, I don’t think Rosewood would want to be seen in such disarray. It’s kinda like falling down in a moldy mud hold, then asking the world to come take a look at you. 


The Allen windmill, my precious father's creation.
We do not seek pity. We know this devastation is widespread and things could have been SO much worse. We have dozens of friends whose entire houses were covered in flood waters. The photos they've shared are breathtaking. Not much can be salvaged without extensive efforts. We are heartbroken for them.


Rosewood in her Christmas finery.
Rosewood is a two-story dwelling, so that was a blessing, and things from the first-floor that can be salvaged with a little work and effort, we are in the process of doing that. Many other things cannot be saved and now sit in a mountain of debris at the end of the driveway. I have called it the Trail of Tears. Although our treasures are in heaven, our memories are here on earth. 

It's a common scene in our neck of the woods, mounds of stuff piled high on curbs. If you drive around the little community where my parents live, or drive around a few miles away from where we live in Harris County and beyond, you will see entire neighborhoods like the photos below. 

These pictures were taken by a Houston friend, LaWanda Weidman, and are shared with her permission. This is one street over from where she lives. Thankfully, her home didn't take on water.







Until next time, sweet friends, we are thanking the Lord for His hand of protection and for the blessings we will surely uncover as we move down this path of recovery with Mom and Dad. As you can see, the road ahead is long for many people. Your prayers are needed, so thank you in advance.


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Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Please Pray for Southeast Texas


Many of these photos are from areas in and around Houston that I know so well, roads I travel often. It's staggering to see the devastation in the city I've called home for almost four decades.

To see incredible images from Rockport, where Hurricane Harvey first made landfall, visit this page

Thank you for your prayers for Southeast Texas.


































Friday, August 18, 2017

The Heat and The Man ~ Scenes from a Blessed Life

Dear friends, it is the middle of August and the air is unyielding, hot, humid, and heavy. I’ve never been one to complain about the weather as it will always be with us, but summer is my least favorite season, because it lasts for such a long time here in my neck of the woods.

If you’ve never been to these parts during the summer, we experience five or so months of this scenario: You walk from your parking space 30-feet to the grocery store entrance and by the time you enter the store you are covered in sweat, from head to toe, undergarments and all. You walk to the curb and pick up the mail at home and return covered in sweat. Outdoors, it’s like walking into a sauna. You can hardly breathe it’s so hot. Nothing brings relief.

Can you tell I am craving cool days and chilly nights? I realize there is no perfect geographical location, but if I had only myself to consider, I would up and move somewhere—probably to the Great Smoky Mountains area, where they have four season and the average yearly temperatures are not extreme during any of them. I’m not playing. I would really move.



In other news, The Man celebrated a big birthday this week. 


Isn't he a dumplin'?

On his sweet mama's lap, surrounded by sis and big brother.


I'm not sure of the occasion but he's plumb filling up that wash-pan.

The Man is a low-key kind of guy so we kept the celebration low-key. 

Dinner out, us four and no more. 








Back home, there were gifts and cards and cake galore. I hope The Man knows how much I love him and how important he is around here. In relationships, it’s easy to focus on what’s wrong instead of what’s right, but, if you’re reading this, dear husband, I love you supremely and wouldn’t want to face a day without your strength and support.

I doubt you know that The Man is a great singer. He doesn’t sing these days but he’s still my favorite. He and two of his siblings formed a trio in their youth and recorded an album, but The Man is awesome on his own and has been singing his entire life. Some years ago, he teamed up with a singing group, headed up by my twin sister, to record an album that features Gayle’s amazing talents as a songwriter. 


If interested, this particular song features The Man as soloist and I have to admit, sometimes I listen to it in my bed, just before turning out the light. There’s something calming about the words, and the voice.

Until next time, dear friends, stay cool.



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Tuesday, August 8, 2017

How to Stay Married for 37 Years ~ Happy Anniversary to Us


How to Stay Married for 37 Years


1. Cherish each other in the best of times.
2. Forgive each other in the worst of times.
3. Never give up.








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