Lynna Clark

By Lynna Clark

If you are one of those people who gets into their vehicle and heads out all willy-nilly without first considering very deliberately which route you will be taking, this will make no sense at all to you. Stop reading here.

However if you tend to contemplate the desired destination and with great effort calculate every turn betwixt where you are and where you’re going, then you may understand when I admit the following. You see… I am directionally challenged. In fact my condition is quite severe.

Even around Salisbury where I grew up… I can’t find my way. Very few things look familiar as I travel. In fact it’s all new to me. Like Jake Alexander Boulevard where I have recently discovered that if I pass Life Church and the Goodwill and Harris Teeter and Aldi’s and keep traveling I shall eventually wind up near the mall. Who knew? When I expressed my excitement over this well-kept secret to my beloved David he nodded his head with great joy at my sudden understanding. “Yep,” he said sweetly. “And you could go bowling…”

The man has patiently given me directions to the hospital and the doctor’s office and the drugstore for years… every single time I leave without him.

“Sooo… will I pass the Dairy Queen?” I ask without a clue.

“Yep. It will be on your right. Keep going but slow down so you don’t miss the turn and our drugstore is on the right before Statesville Boulevard in the Ketner Center.”

“No wait wait wait… too much information. Okay I pass the Dairy Queen… will I see Sonic?”

“Yes… just keep going. You’ll pass Krispy Kreme. If the hot light is on you have to stop. It’s the law.”

“So then Innes Street Drug is next?”

“Soon after… but don’t get turned around when you stop for hot doughnuts. Keep Krispy Kreme on your right and keep going til you pass the barbecue joint with the pink pig. Turn on the right side of the median into the Ketner Center where the florist is. You’ll see our drugstore on the left.”

“Pink pig… hot doughnuts… flowers… drugs… good grief… Statesville Boulevard… got it. Have your phone handy. Hey if I keep going will I be at the mall?”

“Nooo….” He looked at me and cocked his head sideways. “Do you need to go to the mall or is this just a happy conversation we’re having for no apparent reason?” His eyes betrayed him as they shifted past my lovely face to the football game before him.

“NO WAY!!! THAT WAS PASS INTERFERENCE REF! HOW DID YOU NOT SEE THAT?!!!”

Once the disputed play was reviewed to our satisfaction I inquired again of my beloved, “Hey honey… is there still a Cato’s in the mall?”

“I don’t think so… but there’s one over by…” He stopped for fear that he was about to undo the drugstore directions thereby missing hot doughnuts as well as his ballgame. But because he’s a patient man who adores the wife of his youth he tried again. My heart did a little happy dance because he muted the commercial. If you thought I was going to say muted the ballgame sorry to disappoint. He’s a saint but he is not Jesus. He did however look at me with love and understanding.

“When you come out of the drugstore parking lot take a left. You will be on Innes Street.”

“Hey! That’s good because it eventually crosses the square, right?”

“Yep. Keep going and you’ll pass Romo’s where we got the pizza that was so good… remember where Uncle Buck’s used to be?”

“Don’t tell me about what used to be somewhere. That doesn’t help. Pizza… with the white sauce? Yes! On the right! Okay so… keep going. Then what?”

“You’ll come to a stoplight just before the interstate. Stay in the right lane and turn like you’re going to Walmart. Get into the left lane past Bojangles and turn left at the light. Go to the end where they’ve made that little circle thing that you always turn in front of the wrong way and go toward Cracker Barrel. Cato’s will be on the left. You’ll see it.”

“Cool! So all that stuff runs together? Awesome! I can do this!” As I headed out the door I was happy to spot a Kohl’s $10 coupon card beside my keys. “This is gonna work out great. While I’m there I’ll just run into Kohl’s too. Now how do I get to Jake Alexander from here?”

Gazing toward the wife of his youth once again with lovingkindness, he rose from his favorite Saturday spot, turned off the television, and walked toward me. “I’ll take you honey.”

“NO no noooo… I can totally do this!” I exclaimed with great bravery.

He kissed me sweetly then added, “Maybe you should bring the doughnuts back here before you try to find Kohl’s.”

“Good plan darlin’! Jake Alexander here I come!”

“Innes Street honey… the one that crosses Main Street but you can’t turn left at the square so…”

We sighed simultaneously. Bless his heart.

So if you happen to see an old chick pausing longer than you prefer at an intersection please don’t honk unless of course you are expressing your love for Jesus. I will as usual be invoking the Almighty for help as I navigate my way home with doughnuts which may be stale by the time I get there.

By Lynna Clark

We have a grocery store in town that requires a 25 cent deposit for the use of a shopping cart. Therefore we make sure to have an Aldi quarter in the truck at all times. If one were to get caught without a quarter, one would have to carry a shopping bag and that can get downright burdensome. I tried to beat the system by using an empty box from one of their shelves to gather the items on my list.

Okay. So the box was empty because I unloaded it.

Annyyywayyy… by the time I finished shopping, the jug of milk had rolled over two cartons of eggs.  I’ve learned the hard way. One does not go to Aldi without ones quarter.

A close friend who shall remain nameless confided that her husband freaks out if she uses his Aldi quarter. Actually he stashes away several in his vehicle. She tried to reason with him that it only takes one. He made it clear that she is not to spend his Aldi quarter[s.] I guess it’s a security thing… in case he has a buggy emergency. All I know is that this normally mild mannered man goes from zero to psycho over his Aldi quarter.

As a precaution, we stash only one Aldi quarter; for if we kept more, we’d surely go whipping into the Wendy’s drive-thru for a 99 cent Frosty and end up using all our Aldi quarters. No need tempting fate.

One day as I approached the line of buggies with quarter in hand, a lady walked toward me pushing a cart. Instead of retrieving her sacred quarter, she offered her buggy to me. I tried to give her my Aldi quarter. She smiled and shook her head no as she said, “Be blessed and pass it on.”

Whoa!!!

I think I heard angels singing! How does one nominate a fellow sojourner for sainthood anyway?

I pocketed my Aldi quarter and skipped jauntily inside with my free buggy. What a wonderful beautiful happy day!

As I unloaded the groceries into the truck, I noticed a young mother walking toward the entrance. Her frazzled appearance and two wild kids in tow qualified her as the perfect candidate.

“Would you like this buggy?” I asked.

“No… it’s okay. I don’t have a quarter.”

“Here you go. Someone did the same for me.”

Her face brightened and for a minute I thought we might share a hug. I should have given her my name in case she wanted to nominate me for sainthood. Who knew an Aldi quarter could bring such bliss!

It really IS going to be a wonderful day in the neighborhood! In fact, I think I might have enough nickels for a Frosty!

By Lynna Clark

One of our favorite TV personalities made a remark that caused us to laugh. As the show continued David tipped his head and asked. “What’s goin’ on with her eyebrows?” I looked at him and wondered when he started noticing such things. Turning back to the pretty lady I realized he was right. Her brows were perfectly matched and a bit wider than normal. “Why would she do that?” he asked again. It was almost as if they’d been carefully colored in. The fact that I engaged in this conversation gives you a glimpse into our exciting life.
“Well… when I lost my hair during chemo, I was told there was a stencil I could get to draw in perfect eyebrows. Maybe she got hold of something like that. Although I could never quite get mine to look right. I always came off looking angry. Or shocked.”
He pushed his hair back and raised his eyebrows looking surprised. “Like this?” he asked.
“Yep. Just like that only not as bushy.” I smiled at the man. “I guess I should have splurged on the stencil. I kept thinking I could do it myself. But at the time, eyebrows were the least of my problems. It’s funny how they never grew back.” He leaned forward between our matching* recliners and looked at me closer.
“Hmm. They’re there. They are just very light. I guess you could draw them on. Just remember, ‘Less is more.’ You don’t want to look like the TV lady. That’s just weird.” A small part of me was pleased that he liked what he saw when he looked at me and didn’t want me resembling a celebrity. At least that’s what I heard.
I pulled up a phone picture our youngest daughter had taken of us the day before. As I held it up for him to see, again he considered the eyebrow situation. “Maybe our eldest daughter could draw some on the picture. She’s techno-savvy.”
I looked at the photo we hoped to use later for a family thing. “Yep. She could do that. Back when she was in high school she had big eyebrows, like Brooke Shields. So pretty. If anyone has a good appreciation of eyebrows it would be Stephanie.”
He nodded and I wondered if we should be watching the Braves game instead. Surely none of those guys have stenciled eyebrows. If so they’d be melted off in the Georgia heat. A bit later I dug through my make-up for an eyebrow pencil. As I looked in the mirror I envisioned looking like Sela Ward or that gal that plays in Ant Man. Remembering David’s words I tried to use a light hand. Suddenly I recognized the image in the mirror. It was Mr. Potato Head… using his angry eyes. Sela Ward was nowhere. But I did look expressive. So there was that.
A hot washcloth and a few scrubs later I came to a conclusion. Maybe I’ll be just fine without eyebrows. No more surprised looks or angry eyes. This way I can do what comes natural. Maybe keep people guessing with my blank look. I plan to hold onto my eyebrow pencil though. Considering our life, my confused look will surely come in handy in the future.
*Disclaimer: The mentioning of matching recliners is not intended to sound highfalutin. They DO match because his is brown and mine is orange and blue and brown paisley. However, they were not bought as a set. We are not that sophisticated.
Obviously.

By Lynna Clark

A couple of friends talked over the events of the last few days as they walked along. Sadness was written across their faces as they admitted, “We had hoped…”

Hoped, past tense.

As in, we used to hope, but not anymore.

Have you been there? Have you gone through something so hard that your soul is crushed beyond repair? Someone you love has suddenly been taken… and way too soon. The spouse you trusted tossed you aside like an old shoe. Something you planned and even dared to dream about died, leaving you…

Hopeless.

That’s the feeling of the friends who traveled down the road together. Having witnessed the horrible death of the Person they had closely followed, their hopes were just as dead.

Where do we go from here? How will we ever recover? Is all we’ve believed in been wrong?

A few miles later, they realized they were in the very presence of the risen Lord!

That first Easter morning changed everything.

The powerful Son of God stepped from the grave to prove the hopeless wrong. Since death cannot defeat Him, how could anything else? What could separate us from the love of God?

Our fears?

Our loss?

Our worries?

Things changed in an instant! The moment He was raised from the dead, hope was forever restored! Do we dare to trust Him?

“O death where is thy victory?! O grave where is thy sting?”

Thank God! He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ!

All creation shouts with joy on Easter Sunday morning! Our Creator lives, and reigns with power over any circumstance that brings suffering to His beloved ones. With the strong arms of a Shepherd, He reaches out to pull us close to His heart as He gently leads us home. Not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love as we walk in the presence of the risen Lord!

Praise His sweet holy Name! Our conquering King lives!

And there is hope!

You can read about the friends traveling to Emmaus when Jesus suddenly appeared and walked with them in Luke 24:13-34. Romans 8:1 helps us understand that we are no longer condemned by God when we trust His Son as our sacrifice for sin. There’s more about His great love for you personally in Romans 8:23-39.

Call out to Him. He’s waiting for the time when you and He can walk the broken road of life together. This wonderful God of all creation longs to adopt you as His very own. What a “Blessed Hope!”

By Lynna Clark

He looked through the woods as we drove. “Easter comes early this year. I wonder if the dogwoods will be ready?”

Like him I hoped so. They are such a beautiful picture of grace.

Have you noticed how much Jesus loved visuals? As He spoke of worry, He pointed to wildflowers. Instead of just saying that God would provide, He referred to the birds. I bet it gave Him much pleasure to create the dogwood.

Look at this stunning visual of His sacrifice. Each cross shaped blossom displays blood stained “wounds.” Each center exhibits a “crown of thorns” as if the very heart of God shouts, “This is My Beloved Son in Whom I am well pleased!”

Let’s fall to our knees and worship this God Who draws us to Himself.

All heaven and nature point to Him.

How can we do less?

“For God made Christ, Who never sinned, to be the offering for our sin, so that we could be made right with God through Christ.” -2Corinthians5:21

“O God be merciful to me, for I am a sinner.“

Praise God for His beautiful Son!

By Lynna Clark

“Hey man! Don’t be takin’ my donkey!”

That’s what I would’ve said if a couple of strangers came up to my house and started untying the family beast of burden. I mean, how will we get the firewood home, or take grandma to prayer meeting? You can’t just go around taking people’s donkeys.

“The Lord needs it.”

That’s what Jesus told his friends to say when He sent them to fetch the donkey. Apparently that’s all it took. The owner had no problem sending his valuable property with strangers. He wasn’t promised a great return on his investment. He wasn’t promised the donkey would be brought back fed and watered… or even returned at all.

All he knew was that the Lord needed something he had.

If I had a donkey, I can hear myself reasoning…

“Sorry guys. It’s the only donkey I’ve got. You’re gonna have to find yourself another mode of transportation. I just made the last payment. Had to finance it for six years, but finally it’s all mine.”

“What? The Lord needs it? The Lord has everything. What does He need MY donkey for?”

I’m afraid me and my donkey would’ve missed the Jesus parade… the only one He ever had.

In fact, I think I would’ve missed a lot of things.

I don’t believe I would’ve climbed a tree to get a better look. People would surely laugh at a grown woman in a tree.

I wouldn’t have called Him up for a night time meeting so He could answer my questions. Folks might talk.

I doubt I would have given my lunch to Him when everyone realized it was time to eat and there was no food. What good would my little pitiful sack lunch do?

And I KNOW I would not have stepped out of a perfectly good boat to go traipsing across the water. Who would take such a risk?

Not me.

In fact, everything is just fine the way it is. So Lord, I’m here for You… right here in my cozy house, with plenty to eat, and my nice warm bed, surrounded by things and people I love, with my precious donkey safely tied outside.

Hmmm… Sounds like a parade off in the distance.

I wonder if I’m missing something.

By Lynna Clark

Mama was especially thrifty. Not stingy. There’s definitely a difference. Nowadays they call it frugal, cost efficient, or even “green.” Mama was all of those and then some. For example, there was always a half a Q-tip in the Q-tip box. She’d use one end, and the other end would still be clean, so she’d break off the dirty end and pitch it out, saving the clean end for some small task at a later date. I remember daddy saying, “Claudia. If you’re gonna use just half, why not use up some of the halves already in there?” She’d respond with a look that said, “Don’t mess with me!”

She made a chicken pie from scratch with only a small amount of chicken. There were no vegetables for in the pie, so she used sliced boiled eggs instead. We always seemed to have eggs. She made biscuits for on top out of flour, oil and milk. These she placed over a homemade sauce. Baked up golden brown, this was the picture of comfort food. It has always been one of my favorite meals, I think mostly because mama could make something wonderful out of very little.

My junior year in high school, I needed a dress for the Christmas dance. We shopped for the perfect pattern, and picked a silky fabric of purples mingled in a beautiful tie dyed design. She made the long version for the dance then shortened it afterwards so I could wear it to church. I loved that dress. It fit perfectly, and was way prettier than anything I could have found in the department store. Mama helped me to look and feel as special as any girl at the dance, even though times were very hard.

Not too long ago, we had the difficult task of going through her things. She died of a rare disease, and the Lord took her in a matter of only two months. It’s still hard to believe that she’s gone. She was the youngest, strongest, and feistiest seventy-two year old I have ever met, except for maybe my daddy. As we went through her scarves, there was that beautiful purple tie dyed pattern. She had saved the bottom of that dress and made a lovely scarf out of the scraps. What a sweet reminder of my mom, who could always make something very special out of nothing, and who passed that joy down to me.

And yes, I have a dish in the bathroom with Q-tip halves if you ever have the need.

Happy Birthday Mama! I sure do miss you. I miss the fun you always planned for us on holidays, like getting little flags for all the grandchildren on the 4^th of July. And your Cherry Yum-Yum made to look like a flag with blueberries in the corner; I laugh when I think of the time our new son-in-law Jeff ate all 50 states in one fell swoop. Or the Halloween you and daddy dressed up like old people and came trick or treating.

I miss how you organized our beach trips and fed about a thousand of us for only $50 per family. I miss being able to call you for advice on sewing or cooking or kids.

I miss hearing you sing with the grandchildren songs like “Two Little Eyes” and “Little Red Box.”

I miss watching your excitement at hiding Easter eggs even when our kids got old enough to turn the hunt into a full contact sport.

I miss going to your house and watching you and daddy banter back and forth until you called out “Seabert!” to him which signaled you had had enough.

I miss getting cards in the mail addressed in your handwriting, knowing you and daddy had laughed so much in the Hallmark store you feared getting kicked out.

I miss hearing you talk about church and the hot dog sales and how much hamburger it takes to make chilli for a hundred.

I’m sorry I can’t bear to visit your grave. But I know you understand. You’re not there anyway. I’ll see you again and we’ll catch up on our visits. I think of you often, especially when I use a permanent marker, or a piece of your Tupperware with Claudia written on the bottom.

I miss your pretty white hair and your beautiful smile and your cute little ball cap with Myrtle Beach on the front. Actually I have it, but I can’t wear it because David mistook me for you one day and nearly had a heart attack. He especially misses you when he makes pancakes like ya’ll used to do together at the beach.

We all miss you mama. Enjoy your day. And know that we love you.

By Lynna Clark

Looking forward to a day at the beach, we were greeted with this sign:

Oh dear. Suddenly I don’t feel much like relaxing. You mean there could be a tsunami? And when it comes, am I supposed to run like the little man in the picture? What if I can’t get out of my chair fast enough? What if I am busy watching the water, wondering why it is suddenly pulling away from the shore? What if I can’t find my flip flops? What if I jump up and run as fast as my short legs can carry me, but it’s not far enough? How far will a tsunami go ashore? Should I get in the truck and hope it just washes over everything, then recedes, leaving me a nice air pocket, while setting the truck upright on all four wheels? What if I can’t run to the truck, get it unlocked, climb in, and shut the door in time? What if David has walked down the beach with the keys in his pocket? Maybe I should just plan on swimming it out. I used to be a pretty good swimmer. I earned all the badges at the YMCA as a kid except the last one. I bet that’s where they taught you what to do in case of a tsunami. Oh why, oh why didn’t I take that last class? Seems like I had strep throat but I could’ve toughed it out. Why didn’t I come prepared for this? Now here we are at the beach without a plan.

“Don’t worry about anything; instead pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank Him for all He has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.” –Philippians 4:6,7

Thanks Lord. I needed that.

By the way, Lord, will you punish the people who decided to spell tsunami with a “t?” That is just wrong.

By Lynna Clark

“I like your big panties,” my sweet friend said. Everyone at the table stopped talking. The look on my face said, “Holy cow! Did I forget my britches?”  I stammered out the only reply I could muster. “I thought I had those covered up…” and of course I had to gesture the wide unfurling of a parachute sized pair of underwear.

“Your big PANIES” she clarified. “Did you grow them?”

“Ohhh…. my Pee ON eeze. Yes! They came from my backyard.”

Our British friend at the table spoke. “I think it’s pronounced Peon EEZE.” As he spoke the word flowed beautifully off his lips like honey. What is it about a British accent that immediately garners respect? Maybe that’s why all the movies about Bible stuff have Jesus speaking with a British accent.

I wonder if a portrayal of the Sermon on the Mount would sound as wise if it were written by a Southerner. The young man playing Jesus would speak while sitting on the back of a pickup truck. The hair and beard would be the same, but that accent would NOT work!

“I know it’s hard bein’ poor, bless your hearts. I have been there ‘n done nat. Ya’ll know I’z born in a barn? But doncha worry none. Your daddy in heavin is makin a real nice place for ye.

And a lot of ya’ll are hungry rite now, but someday you’ll be fullerna tick. Some of ya’ll are sheddin’ some tears up in here. But sumday ya’ll gonna be laughin yer heads off.”

The feeding of the five thousand would’ve seemed less of a miracle too. Southerners never forget to bring food, and that’s about the same number that attend homecoming.

Then if Jesus went with His disciples out on the lake, they would’ve been in a real nice bass boat. His question of “Did ye bring any bread?” would’ve been answered with, “Yep! We got biscuits and cornbread and hushpuppies. Take yer pick!”

After they fished all night and didn’t catch anything, Jesus might have advised, “Change up yer jig and throw over in ‘at buncha grass growin’ up air inna cove.”

Peter might’ve shouted, “Oooowee! Look et all ‘em bream, and catfish, and crappie! Man, at the bass! They’re all keepers! We are gonna have us a fish fry to NITE!”

We probably won’t see that version at the box office any time soon, praise God.

As I carried the big bouquet of peonies into the memorial service, I passed a young man who spoke his admiration as well. “Wow! What beautiful roses! Did you grow them yourself?”

I guess a peony by any other name still smells just as sweet.

By Lynna Clark

I take great pride in keeping my home neat. It’s not always clean, but it is tidy. There’s a bright tablecloth on our little kitchen table, with a fruit bowl or flowers. Dirty dishes are placed in the portable dishwasher as soon as they’re used. David and I are the only ones here and the house is so tiny that it only takes a minute to make it neat.

However, last Monday we finished a long day and crashed. The tablecloth was dirty so I tossed it on the floor toward the laundry room. The dishwasher was full and in front of the kitchen sink hooked up to run. David wasn’t feeling well so he grabbed an old sheet and quilt then hit the recliner sofa. The week before, he moved to a new office and had pulled books off our shelves, sorting stuff in piles on the floor. Our house was unusually trashed.

Books were not the only thing to hit the floor that night. About 2am, he got so violently ill that his blood pressure bottomed out. I found him passed out on the bathroom floor and had to call 911.

As I jerked on clothes, described his symptoms to the dispatcher, and prayed my sweetheart wouldn’t die, I ran to turn on the porch light and open the side door. Lickety-split my little upside down house was filled with firemen and paramedics who do not know what a respectable housekeeper I am. Wouldn’t you know it! The one time…

This is where the wise person would tell you that none of that matters now that I know David is okay.

While that is very true…

The next day I found myself cleaning the house top to bottom, rearranging the bookshelf, spreading out a clean table cloth, washing all the linens, disinfecting the floors, and thinking of a reason to invite the emergency guys back for a do-over.

Perhaps if I bake a cake to thank them for their great efficiency and kindness…

This time the 911 call would sound like this:

“911. What’s your emergency?”

“Oh… no emergency. Is the same crew working that worked Monday night?”

“Yes ma’am. Is this the lady with the messy house?”

“They TOLD you that?”

“Yes ma’am. They were appalled. Apparently there was a pink striped sheet on a red sofa. Sounds hideous!”

“Could you please send them back? I have cake!”

“No ma’am. They said if you ever called again to tell you they would not return to such a pigsty.”

“But… but I have cake.”

“No cake in the world would entice them back. They also told us about your bedhead. Said you looked like a woman in a bad wig wearing clothes with yesterday’s coffee stains.”

“Sigh… it’s true. It was bad. Sorry I called…um… have a good night.”

“You too ma’am… because they are not coming back.”

Mama always said to wear decent underpants in case there’s an emergency.

You know… they did not even check our underpants!

Thank the good Lord.