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Tag Archives: acceptance

My Grandmother’s Love

18 Thursday Sep 2014

Posted by Pat Luffman Rowland in Love for God

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acceptance, faith, God's presence, love, memories, trust, wisdom

This is dedicated to the memory of Wendell Smith, who grew up across the street from my grandparents and loved my grandmother like his own, and was loved by her in the same way. Wendell called her Mama Dulcie just like the rest of us, and it was he who preached her funeral in 1991.

Dulcie Pauline Cotton Spencer had a way about her. A way that was warm, inviting, accepting of every person for just who they were. She was the best example of Christ’s love I’ve ever known. She knew Him well and loved Jesus with reverence and solid trust.

One of my earliest childhood memories of my grandmother is how she prayed on her knees every night at bedtime. With her braided hair unwound from atop her head and falling down her back over her homemade white gown, she spoke to the Lord. As an adult, I remember the many times I walked into her house and into her conversations with Jesus. He was her constant companion.

As a small child of barefoot summers, I remember the pain of getting a sizeable splinter in my foot and how Mama Dulcie placed a small piece of fat meat over the wound and wrapped it with a rag torn from a clean, but worn thin, pillowcase. (Repurposing, we call it now.) The splinter eased itself out. As an older child, I remember afternoons that she sent me to the garden for a fresh head of lettuce. I would wash it and then stand beside her and watch as she poured hot bacon grease over the lettuce, turning it into a wilted salad.

She was a cook that no would could top. I don’t suppose her kitchen ever knew a day without bowls of vegetables and platters of meat and a dessert of some kind. She loved cooking and loved even more sharing it with others. It was a delight to my grandparents for someone—anyone—to stop by for the noon meal. No need to call, food was always plentiful at the Spencer house. Chicken and dumplings was the grandchildren’s favorite and the dish she prepared regularly for friends and neighbors. In a small town, when someone is sick, you take care of them and their families with food. In my kitchen, I have a framed copy of Mama’s recipe for chicken and dumplings from the Medina Baptist Church cookbook. It was written just like she would verbally give it to you and what a treasure that is! “Use a good chicken” is one of the instructions. (For you of today’s generation, that means select a plump young hen big enough to feed several people.)

Mama Dulcie had fourteen children. Seven born to her and seven who married into the family—she and Papa knew no difference. There were sixteen grandchildren and I’ve lost count of the great-grands. Love flowed so naturally from Dulcie Spencer. Just like Jesus, she had no favorites; yet she loved with such abundance, that I think each one of us felt like we were her favorite.

Mama Dulcie took life seriously and she took her “soaps” seriously. It was a mystery to me that a woman so pure could enjoy stories that even in the 50s were a bit racy. Her favorite was “As the World Turns” and when the marriage of fictional characters Bob and Lisa became troubled, Mama wrote to Lisa. She told her about wrong and right and encouraged her to mend her ways. Are you smiling? Well, Lisa wrote back—I have the letter! She thanked Mama for writing to her and for her advice. But as I recall, Lisa continued to be a bit of a wild child, likely a great disappointment to my grandmother.

Mama Dulcie sang when she ironed, when she cooked, when she mopped the floors, pretty much all the time.  “In the Sweet By and By” and “When the Roll is Called Up Yonder” are two of the hymns I remember most—and she sang only hymns. She loved to paint and her pie safes had more coats of white paint than one could count. My mother, Mama’s firstborn, said Mama would rather paint than dust. There was just something about a fresh coat of white paint that made her very happy.

My grandmother was a gentle soul. She was kind and generous. She knew how to love and chose to see only the best in everyone, and this brings me to a story about Wendell Smith that he told me a few years before he died. While Mama and Papa were at church, Wendell, just a little boy at the time, went into their house (doors weren’t locked then) and into the kitchen and there saw the banana pudding Mama Dulcie had left on the counter to cool. He set the whole bowl of pudding in the middle of the floor and with a big spoon dug in. He said my grandmother’s only words about it were “Bless his heart, he must have been hungry.” Someone else might have been annoyed, even angry, but not this sweet lady.

One other memory given me by Wendell was this: “The Sunday before I announced my call into the ministry I gave my testimony, then Bro. John Pippin preached about five minutes and gave the invitation. It was during the invitation that six people responded giving their lives to Christ. During the invitation Mama Dulcie got up, walked up the aisle and got Bruce and Bryan (two of her grandchildren) and with one on one side and one on the other she brought them down the aisle and to Christ. Such was her faith that she wanted her grandchildren to be saved.”

I think I want to close with that memory. It says who she was. A woman who loved her family and her Lord and made sure the two were connected. She was the wisest woman I ever knew.

Mama and me 001

Who I Really Am

14 Monday Jul 2014

Posted by Pat Luffman Rowland in God's love for us

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

acceptance, comfort, encouragement, forgiveness, identity, judging, mercy, reliance on God

Ravi Zacharias says there are three of each of us: There is who the world thinks we are, who we think we are, and who Gods knows us to be.  I am so grateful for that last one—who God knows me to be.

One of the quickest ways for me to fall flat on my face is to state with all boldness and certainty I will never do a particular thing.  That thing might by to repeat a past mistake, it may be some way I’ve seen another fail, or it may be some wrong behavior I know can happen but cannot imagine myself ever doing.

As my life has unfolded, I’ve worked to keep my mouth tightly closed about the nevers of life, for I identify with Paul in Romans 7:18-19: For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for the willing is present in me, but the doing of the good is not. For the good that I want, I do not do, but I practice the very evil that I do not want. 

Throughout life, I have by nature been a survivor. I’ve worked hard and long hours to get whatever needed to be done, done. As an adult in my 40’s, I had to put my survivor skills into action and through that time, I came to believe I could do just about anything if I had to do it, and if there was enough fire burning inside me to get it done. I also learned that I was a perfectionist and it took a while to recognize that wasn’t a good thing but a very unhealthy way to go about life. However, it was the discipline of that trait that helped me move from survivor to one who accomplished well.

But none of that matters when it comes to living in the Lord’s strength. I can determine whatever I want to determine but if the Lord is not the one who guides and supplies, all will crumble about me. I hear Paul’s struggle with right and wrong and identify with his frustration and self-disappointment.

I have learned to do this: When someone else judges me, I ask myself who I am judging. When I hear about someone else’s mistake that I think I could never do, I say there but for the grace of God go I. When I do a wrong—or repeat one—I thank God that He knows me in a way that I do not even know myself and that is the me He loves.

Content In Whatever State

21 Monday Feb 2011

Posted by Pat Luffman Rowland in forgiveness

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acceptance, forgiveness, loss, maturity, strength

The apostle Paul said he had learned to be content in whatever state he was in.   He said to be anxious for nothing, but give thanks in everything and when we have that attitude, we will know the peace of God.  I knew a wonderful example of that.  Her name was Martha.

I worked for a physician and Martha was a patient there.  A very gracious lady and one known for her baking, she would often bring to us her specialty, a five-flavor pound cake.  It could brighten any busy day.

Martha had grown up in an affluent home, but her married life was one of ups and downs.  Her husband was given to taking great investment risks, some said all with the money she had inherited.   A time came when he risked too much and they lost everything they had.  This kind lady lost her family home – the one she had lived in all her life – and everything in it.

Not long after their plight became public knowledge, she called to say she needed to come in for an examination.  She said they wanted to cash in a life insurance policy and it required a physician’s statement that she was no longer able to bear children.  They had grown children and the policy secured the money for their inheritance, but also for any future heirs.  Their children had released the binder on the inheritance and now she needed proof that there would be no danger of a future heir’s protest.    Martha was approaching 70.   We saw it as insult upon insult.

We were nervous about her visit.  It was a small town and there were no secrets so she would come knowing we knew of their severe loss.  How did we greet her?  Pretend nothing was wrong?  Hope we could just fake it through to help her preserve dignity?  And the terrible offense of having to submit her body for a pointless examination had us all riled.

The day came for her visit and I can still remember how tense we all were.  We loved Martha and were concerned about this ultimate embarrassment.  But as soon as she was in the door, we knew we had far under-estimated her.  She came in laughing at such a ridiculous request by the insurance company; she just thought it was all very funny.  And with her came one of her famous cakes.  She apologized that it was a little lopsided but she had borrowed the mixer and oven of a friend and was unfamiliar with both.  She made the remark as if it was quite normal to produce a cake in this manner.  And, Martha’s husband was with her.  There was no tension between them; rather, she seemed perfectly delighted with his company.

Some in the town mumbled that Martha had lost her mind since no one mentally intact could behave as she did in view of all she had lost.  But I never saw that.  I saw a godly woman who was living out the scriptures, a woman who loved and trusted God.  She was refusing to live as the world would choose for her.  Martha had obviously forgiven her husband and accepted the tremendous blow to her life.  She walked on in faith and in practice, with the peace that comes from believing God’s word.  She is one of my spiritual giants.

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The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. Galatians 5:22-23 ESV

If you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. Romans 10:9

God has not given us a spirt of fear, but of power and love and of a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7

Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise; give thanks to Him and praise His name. For the Lord is good and His love endures forever; His faithfulness continues through all generations. Psalm 100:4-5

If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. 1 John 1:9

© Pat Rowland and Prayerful Pondering, 2010 - 2013.
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Hope must be in the future tense. Faith, to be faith, must be in the present tense. Catherine Marshall
Everything over your head is under his feet. Dr. Tom Lindberg
What an excellent ground of hope and confidence we have when we reflect upon these three things in prayer--the Father's love, the son's merit and the Spirit's power! Thomas Manton
Our Christian hope is that we're going to live with Christ in a new earth, where is not only no more death, but where life is what it was always meant to be. Timothy Keller

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