This morning as I woke, my mind was filled with a childhood memory. I remembered those nights when Mother & Daddy would get a quilt out of the closet and say, “Let’s go outside and look at the stars”. Sometimes it would be with a cup of homemade ice cream and sometimes with a glass of Iced Tea or Dr. Pepper. Most of the time it was just them, a quilt, and me. We would lay down on the quilt looking up at the beautiful heavens and start commenting on the beauty and wonder of it all. Inevitably Daddy would talk about heaven and how “of the increase of His government there shall be no end”. It always made me want to go there. I remember thinking that if God could speak all of this into existence then He can surely take care of me. Mother & Daddy was always quick to point out that this great God that made this incredible sky loved me and cared for me more than His creation. An aha moment indeed! I still believe the same today. Maybe that’s why the memory filled my mind this morning, to remind me that He hasn’t changed. He’s still just as great as He was when I was just a child! He still loves me and cares for me more than all of creation! If he can make that beautiful sky and put all the stars in place, He can surely take care of anything in my life that needs attention.
🎶God is bigger than all my problems, bigger than all my fears; God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see. He’s bigger than all my questions, bigger than anything….!🎶
🎶Bigger than all the giants of fear and unbelief! Bigger than all the confusion! Bigger than ANYTHING! God is bigger! 🎶
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Posted in Attitude, Childhood, Cousins, Family, Grandparents, Homelife, Humor, Kids, Memories, Raising Kids, Relatives on January 4, 2011|
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I know my title sounds a little odd. Let me explain.
When I was a little girl, growing up, Mother would load us up in the car every once in awhile and take us down to Bloomington (California) from Fresno to see Grandma and Grandpa Pound and all the uncles, aunts and cousins. I loved to play around their house, in the yard and if we could get by with it in the sand pile and on the pipes of Grandpa’s business. However, if we ever got caught (which we did often) we got in big trouble either from Grandpa or Uncle James, Uncle C.W., or one of the crew that worked for Grandpa. Inevitably, one of us kids would get “hurt”. You know, scrape a knee or get a small cut on a finger or arm. That was one of the reasons Grandpa didn’t want us playing on or around his equipment. We loved to climb on the big trucks, etc. Back to my story….When one of us got hurt and we would run to the house, crying and asking for help, after Grandma saw that we wasn’t hurt that bad she would always say, “Well, that wouldn’t hurt on my eyeball”. She would always make us laugh and forget about our little scrape.
A few days ago, I spilled a cup of HOT coffee on my arm and my poor husband thought I had been shot or something really horrible had happened, by the way I screamed and bounced around saying, “Oh! OW! JEEEE—SUS!” and on and on. He tried to help me by saying, “Oh, I’m so sorry. Run it under cold water, etc”. Poor guy didn’t know what to do. We both thought for sure it would blister and be red and burnt for days. However, the next day, I looked at it and it looked just like a little scrape. Nathan looked at it and tried to remain sympathetic but I could tell by the look on his face (he’s not good at hiding his feelings) that he couldn’t understand what all the screaming had been about the previous day. That’s when I just started laughing, almost uncontrollably, all the while trying to tell him what I was laughing at. That look on his face took me back to much younger days, when I would see that same look on Grandma Pound’s face and she would say, “Well, that wouldn’t hurt on my eyeball”. 🙂
I know I could take this post and make something much more philosophical and maybe even spiritual (grow up already, in the Kingdom of God). But, I just wanted to share a little Ruby Pound-ism with you and hopefully make you smile. There was only one Ruby Pound and every once in awhile I feel her “spirit” get on me. She was quite a character and I’m glad I had her as a grandmother. She made me laugh more times than I could ever count.
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Posted in Childhood, Memories on November 21, 2009|
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