Active Shooter Drills for Schools: Yes or No?

This week two teacher union organizations,  American Federation of Teachers and the National Education Association — the nation’s largest education unions, with several million members — are calling for schools to reassess the use of lockdown drills. Citing the trauma and lack of evidence that the drills are/could be effective in the case of a mass school shooting, these groups are (also) exploring the mental and stress induced trauma that is being forced upon our children by participating in active shooter drills. And if schools do choose to do these drills with students, they shouldn’t be unnecessarily realistic and schools should give plenty of warning. Any drill, for any reason, should be done with age-appropriateness and sensitivity toward children with special needs or those who have experienced trauma. So much to think about.

When I read the article I was immediately reminded of conversations with our grandson about the drills. Understanding that there are mixed reviews on whether or not to “warn” parents and children that the drills will take place, I am a HUGE advocate that our school systems should have no choice but to communicate intended actions about our children BEFORE an action takes place. As a parent our rights are protected.

Consider this: Both federal and state courts have determined parental rights to be fundamental rights. The U.S. Supreme Court and the N.C. Supreme Court have declared constitutional protections for the rights of parents to the care, custody, and control of their children. In McIntyre v. McIntyre (1995), the N.C. Supreme Court reaffirmed that parents have a “paramount right…to custody, care and nurture of their children,” which includes “with whom their children shall associate.” In Troxel v. Granville (2000), the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in a Washington State case that parents have a fundamental right to “make decisions concerning the care, custody, and control of their children.” The High Court found, “the Due Process clause does not permit a State to infringe on the fundamental right of parents to make rearing decisions simply because a state judge believes a ‘better’ decision could be made.”  Does this change your mind about notification of mandatory active shooter drills at your child’s school? More importantly, do you know what happens when your child’s school practices their response to a crisis or active shooter, or what your child is being told when they participate in a drill?

This is such a tough question?!! Of course we want our children to have every advantage if some mentally ill person (or a pissed-off parent) wielding a gun comes to their school. I haven’t heard any of these type drills in our area but in other states there were drills where teachers were “shot” with rubber bullets in front of their students and (also) students were covered with fake blood during a drill. What in the world were those planning these drills thinking? These union groups are advocating for our teachers to have additional training. What kind of training? Advanced first aid? Perhaps we only train teachers how to respond in the case of an active shooter. Will our kids follow their direction in crisis? Hmmm. Teacher friends, what do you think?

I don’t blog to create controversy and I know that this writing may cause divided opinions about guns, gun possession, violence, teaching styles and teacher responsibility. I’m open to healthy discussions! Disclosure: We are “above average” satisfied with the school where our grandson attends. All schools have their challenges (oh, that car rider line)!

ONE LAST THING: I learned weapons safety, how to transport and shoot weapons as a young teenager. There was a time in my teen years that I spent most afternoons at the shooting range (and I was pretty good).! I’ve never considered using a firearm other than for protection but I grew up around guns. Many people I know had similar experiences. That said: Is anyone FOR gun violence? I certainly am not! I do, however, support the rights of individuals to possess and carry, provided they follow the legal channel to do so. I also want my family protected anywhere that we are. So many questions – no easy answers.

Happy Birthday Mom

Today is your first birthday in heaven. I wonder what you’re doing there for your birthday. Did you sleep late? Do you sleep in heaven? You don’t really like sweets but I hope that you got something to eat that you love.

I missed looking through birthday cards at the store for you. You know, the ones that I’d spend an hour finding…..just to make you cry? Even when they didn’t, you played along and I’m grateful that you did that for me.

In my Facebook memories this week there was a post that popped up from you to me. You told me that I need to learn the word REST! I’m trying to do that. I’m trying to find that balance that I’ve never had. Why did you and Daddy give me genes that make me so damn accountable for my job?

Phil and I had a question about a ground beef recipe this week. Who are we supposed to call with you gone? Who will make my okra and tomatoes perfectly for me?

There are so many unanswered questions, mom. There was never enough time for all of them.

Colton thinks that I need to have Medicare, so that we can make sure I’m taken care of because you are gone. He is a thinker, that boy. We cleaned out the building but he refuses to get rid of the rocks that you gave him.

In January we are going to take the rest of your ashes to Georgia and scatter them with Granny and Poppa. I know that you want that. While we are there we will visit with Aunt Glenese. I know that you wanted so badly to make that one last trip, so we’ll do it for you. Glenda, Ramona, Bobby, Cyndi, Phil and me, hanging out in Dublin just like when we were kids. We may even go to Poplar Springs and see if we recognize the window that belongs to Great Granny and Grandpa.

I’m still here on earth doing all the things that you said we should. Being responsible, caring for everyone, working and loving those around us, everyday – even on days like today that suck, because it’s your birthday and you are gone.

Happy Birthday, mom. I love you.

Losing Mother

Every day is a new adventure.  Every day is a new event.  It’s been two and a half months since mom died and literally each day there is some point where I think I should call and check on her, or give her an update on my day, tell her that a RITI client has moved into housing, or share the latest adventure that Colton has created for us.  As we drove back from the beach on Saturday, I reflected on our week and realized that it brought many thoughts of mom and I being at the condo.  Mom made the trip with me when Blythe Management purchased our condo.  She grabbed the job of staying behind at the unit to wait on our furniture delivery, and making sure they hauled the old furniture off (because we had already realized that we could lift it)!  During that trip her greatest joy was watching me sit in the living room floor at 2am putting together a lamp that was the perfect fit for our new space.  She found it hysterically funny that I was so determined to put together the stand-up lamp that we still have and use.  While she was good with tools, I have never been.

Over the years mother and I made many trips together.  She enjoyed telling people that she always brought a flannel nightgown because I would freeze her at night in our room.  I drove her to see Bobby, I drove her to Sarasota, I drove her to Georgia to see family there, we took her new van and drove with Ramona to see Julia Marie’s first dance recital in Connecticut. Her rendition of me driving through New York city was priceless.  We went to weddings, funerals, and reunions.  Some trips were wonderful, and some were tedious.  The common theme was that I drove 😊

The past few months have been difficult for our family.  On May 2nd we lost Phil’s brother Terry.  He turned 64 years old on Tuesday and two days later he was gone.  A mere seventeen days later, while still reeling from that loss, mom fell and broke her hip.  When they verified the break in the ER in Brevard, they asked me the all familiar question:  which hospital would you like her transferred to?  I chose UNC-Pardee because mother had finished cancer treatment there less than three weeks earlier, her ortho group was now based there and her only trusted surgeon was there.  That decision was easy.  The difficult decisions came later but we held fast to God’s presence.  He was there in so many ways.  Dr. Eric Byrd admitted her and was the first to tell her that after her hip was repaired, she would have to return to a rehab unit.  I’d never met Dr. Byrd, but felt as if I knew him. He cared for my former attorney boss for many years. It was funny thinking about how many times I had spoken to his office but never seen him.  Next was the news that they couldn’t immediately do surgery because her blood was too thin (again, our regular routine); then her heart began to misbehave but, no worries, because the cardiologist who watches over my sister and I was right there to help.  Life really began to change for the worse just before her surgery when the anesthesiologist had me come to pre-op and told me that he wasn’t convinced she would survive the surgery.  He wanted to be sure that we understood the risks and had there was an opportunity to say I love you.  Those were some gut-wrenching moments.  She did survive the surgery but when she awoke it wasn’t good.  She wasn’t good.  She was tired; she was very tired. One more surgery behind her but this fall and that repair were just too much.  By the next afternoon, she told us that she didn’t have the strength to go forward and she requested hospice care. Had she not fallen she would still be with us.

It was that afternoon, at that moment, that I knew I was going to lose her.  She was headed to a reunion of people that we had lost and I would be left behind. 

Oh, I realize that I’m not the only one that would be left behind. I have siblings, this would be devastating for Bobby.  We have a son that would be losing his Gran.  Our sweet Colton who has experienced a lot of great-grandparent loss.  Losing mom was different for him and my heart is happy that I was intentional about them having some adventures together – even when it made my days with him shorter.  My husband was one of her favorites (she made that clear to me at every opportunity)!  My sisters, her stepdaughters, would feel another loss after just losing their precious mom a couple of years before.  She left siblings and many nieces and nephews.  Her sweet Aunt Glenese that she wanted to make one last trip to see.

I remember clearly sitting at the Elizabeth House and listening to Dr. Albers talk about hospice care, their commitment to finding a pain free place for her, and the reassurance that mother was a candidate to be there.  I found that fact very weird – she always bounced back – always.  I also remember feeling like the only job that I had left was making sure that her wishes were respected.  That she didn’t hurt – the hip pain was terrible even after surgery. She lost her dignity.  It took all her energy just to be with us.  Mom just didn’t have the ability to bounce back.  It wasn’t okay with me.  It still isn’t.

If you haven’t been in that same spot let me assure you that you will have no idea what to do, while also knowing exactly what you must do.  I truly did not care that people wanted to stand over her and talk to her. To tell her that it wasn’t her time and that they needed her.  It was no longer about any needs but her own.  I limited visits and we sat outside her room because the presence of people in her space was agitating to her.  My husband and sister were with me each day. Our son, my brother and our sweet Cyndi, and my sister Glenda checked in daily (sometimes, hourly), reminding me to practice self-care. There were my friends of many years checking in. We each have our own way of coping and I didn’t want anyone else to have to sit through the hospice experience if it wasn’t necessary. We met a sweet family across the hall who were also losing their beloved mother. There were also people who questioned my care of her. Yes, that happened.  It is so sad that people feel like they have a right to question but, again, I felt God’s presence when I received feedback from my family and friends that were supportive of the journey we were on. The ones that took time to reassure me that these were now my decisions to make.

What I truly cared about in the week that we spent at the Elizabeth House was finding space to be grateful for the very hard and difficult relationship that my mother and I had for almost 58 years of my life.  I do care that I did my absolute best for her.  I do care that when my father told me it would be my job to care for her (mind you that daddy died in 1995), I took that responsibility on my shoulders and I carried it until she took her last breath.  There were times that she was so mad at me it was amazing.  There were also times that she loved me fiercely and in the only way that she knew how.  I was difficult for her because I reminded her so much of my father.  That was unfair in so many ways, but it was our reality.  What was also real as hell is that if she hadn’t loved our daddy so deeply, and walked away from him so easily, her life would have been different.  Her relationship with her kids would have been different.  There are no do-overs and we must live with what we are handed.

Mom died after the sunrise on a Sunday morning.  I knew she wouldn’t die during the night because she hated the dark.  She always hated the dark.  Her service was in a old rock church in Pisgah Forest – The English Chapel. It was perfect. We buried her in the plot with our father, her wishes.

My hope and faith in Jesus Christ allow me to know that she is now living where it is light.  She doesn’t hurt and she is whole.  Those facts and my faith make it okay most of the time.  I am so grateful to my family for their support.  I am thankful to those who traveled to be with us and say their goodbyes.  I am thankful to those who reached out and supported us, even if they couldn’t be with us. I was humbled by the people that came to offer condolences.  I am super grateful for the people who continue to reach out, knowing that this is a difficult time for us.  We are living our lives, but it doesn’t mean that we aren’t grieving.  It doesn’t mean that we don’t all miss her. It doesn’t mean that each day, at some point, I don’t think I should be checking in.

We continue our journey here on earth, living and loving each other.  We continue to enjoy our family gatherings, our trips to the beach, our late summer evenings, our Sunday afternoons, playing together, worshiping together and praising God.  Our God. The One that gives and the One that takes away. Thanks be to God for the life and love of Bonnie Fordham Pruitt Phillips Hollingsworth.

Blessings and Love to All.





The Early Morning Stillness

It was late last night when I arrived home to find my husband sitting with his computer at the table. We are both working super long hours right now. Always adjusting, it seems, to the changes of our careers. We sometimes crave a quiet moment when there aren’t two laptops surrounding us.

When my clock alarmed at 4:30 am this morning, I wasn’t thrilled (that’s an understatement). I needed to grab clothes and coffee and return to the Room in the Inn host church by 5:00 am, so that an overnight volunteer could leave and go to work this morning. Yes, that’s right. Someone who stayed up last night providing safety and oversight for twelve women to sleep was leaving to shower and go to work. Volunteers are amazing creatures! Our space this week is donated by one of our long-term congregations. While it isn’t their “turn” to host, we needed space and they opened their doors. That is the way it’s been since 2001 when Room in the Inn began in our area. People see the need and they respond.

When I entered the shelter I was struck by the quietness of their sleep. I know there are many nights that coughing and snoring keep part of them awake but when I arrived in the wee morning hours they were peacefully and blissfully sleeping. I spoke to the volunteer that was leaving to go about her day, she gave me a night report and quietly left. It was another hour before the ladies needed to wake-up for their day. They need all the rest they can get.

Being homeless is exhausting. There are so many “whys” to the issue of homelessness. I, too, stood in that place years ago where I wondered why people end up with no homes, why they stay there, how addiction works, why can’t they “just” get a doctor to give them medications, why don’t they go live with family? What a naive place I was in my life with those thoughts. My thoughts were innocent enough and (I like to think) not judgmental, just uneducated. I lacked understanding because I’d never chosen to ask.

Fast forward back to my morning. How blessed am I to be standing in a church space, watching over twelve wonderful women who are grabbing the last few minutes of shut-eye before their hectic day begins? They will have meetings and appointments, yes. They will also look for space just to be. A place where people don’t spend their time judging the way you look, your presence, your very place in the world. When will their story change?

Friends, it’s time that we all look around and figure out that homelessness will end when housing begins. Our community lacks affordable housing and the more condo/apartment complexes that we build – that lack affordability – the more we perpetuate homelessness. Next time you see someone on the street and you “decide” that they’re homeless…..ask yourself why. You might find a very complex answer to that question but, then again, the answer could be super simple. #housingfirst

http://www.homewardboundwnc.org

Room in the Inn – Winter Storm Diego, December 2018

Snow Lady

We knew it was coming – or did we?  It always unfolds the same way when we have a winter storm.  I watch the weather (hourly).  We are so aware that the people we serve need preparation. 

It’s different when you are responsible for a shelter because it’s about the ladies…..but it also involves the safety of our volunteers.  Each time we have a storm it is a little different yet always the same.  Forecasts come down and change by the hour.  We plan, then we plan again, then we adjust and then we wait.  I called off our weekend shelter staff on Wednesday, knowing that if we had to navigate the snow and ice over the weekend, I would be the one to do so.

Winter Storm Diego was predicted early.  We first thought that we would be unable to transport and staff volunteers at the host faith community.  Then we wondered if we would be able to move the ladies on Sunday (our weekly moving day).  There aren’t enough words to tell you how hard Carol (Jubilee Community) and her volunteers worked to make sure that the ladies could all get to the host site before the snow began on Saturday.

The ladies and I rolled into the AHOPE Day Center at 1:40pm on Saturday for them to shower and repack for the weekend.  Our pickup time was 3:45pm.  It was a quiet time for them.  Weather anticipation brings that feeling of the unknown, which no one likes to have.  We laughed and we joked but when the snow began to fall at 3:00pm we were full of angst.  I reassured the ladies that Jubilee is three blocks from us and that they would get to shelter.  I am reminded of one of the ladies who stood looking out of the front door window for what seemed an eternity.  It wasn’t snowing that hard and I wondered what she was looking for.  Managing anxiety when living in constant crisis (homelessness) is more than difficult.

At 3:45pm, on schedule, a volunteer from Jubilee pulled up out front.  We have a client with a car and she agreed to have some sister clients ride with her.  I took one in my truck and away we went.  Less than five minutes later all of the Room in the Inn ladies were safe in shelter.  They remained at Jubilee until Sunday morning!

We have a text chain and I have checked in with them several times a day.  I also spoke to Carol from Jubilee several times a day.  It worked!  Well, we are still separated from our mattresses but (hopefully) later today.  All of the wondering, planning, worrying and logistics WORKED!

On Monday, the ladies were greeted by another host faith community.  We don’t disclose where we are while we are there but I can tell you that on Monday the ladies took their sleeping bags and pillows and were picked up (early) by this week’s volunteers.  The church wanted them to be inside before the refreezing that was coming.  I wanted Janette, our case manager, home before the refreeze.  They were safe and warm last night, and they have been given the blessing of remaining in shelter all day today.

You see, this thing called Room in the Inn, it is based around more volunteers that I can count.  It is nurtured by staff.  It is loved and carried out by people of many faith groups that all agree we are here to love.  We all have the same goals:  keeping the ladies safe and cared for, with the ultimate goal of them being housed.  God sent me this career path.  There are days when I ask why but when I see the dedication of our staff and volunteers, and realize how blessed I am to walk with them and the ladies, I have my answer.

Now, ABOUT THOSE MATTRESSES!

The Pop of all Pop’s………………..

Funny, when I met him, the thought of him being a pop truly didn’t enter my mind.  What did, was that he made me feel cherished, happy, loved beyond words and safe but most of all – he loved my child.  Boy did he love my child.  There was a time when I wondered if I fit in their picture 🙂  We’ve spent almost 29 years (nearly 28 married years) walking together on this journey we call life.  There have been bumps and bruises on the way (aren’t there always) but there are always more good times than not.  We share a treasured value in our marriage about family coming first.  In a world full of turbulence, we know where our priorities stand.  I think putting family first means something different to everyone.  For us there is no hidden agenda or meaning – our family comes first.

Phil and Josh brought each other such joy.  Basketball, music, the Jeep, WCU, guy stuff, similar interest and (I like to think) their shared love for me.  My part of that was being ever grateful that God brought Phil to us and the joy that I feel watching the two of them.  We have memories that go far beyond the words of a blog post.

Phil, Josh, Laura and I enjoyed a few years of adventure before the boy came along that changed our names.  When Phil became Pop – it is almost like he lost his “real” name – in a good way!  We talk about when Colton first said Pop.  We know that we heard him say it.  When we tried to get him to repeat it, he would look at us and laugh. That was our first clue about the relationship that these two would have.  The boy loves his Pop!  It’s as though Colton separates us into our roles.  The latest for me is that of his admin assistant.  Pop’s role doesn’t ever change – it’s all about playtime!  Come on Pop, let’s play!

Today, on Pop’s birthday, the birthday where they changed the hair color on his license to grey, he had lunch with Colton at school and took him to the book fair.  A time out from his normal work through lunch routine to devote some time to the one who named him Pop. Perfect.

For Nana, the joy of watching Pop love our boys never gets old. Whether it’s the older boy or that boy’s little boy, it never gets old.

Family comes first; we know it, we believe it, and we practice it.  Thanks Pop for leading the way!

We Love You,

  

     

Pop’s Boys

Feet on a Saturday morning

When Life Gives You. . . . A Club

Each day in our life is a gift from God. At our house we never take our days for granted. Live each day to the fullest. Excel at your job. Spend plenty of time with your family. Do your yard work. Grab a date night, and much, much, more.  As of recent we have discovered that we are part of the Club Sandwich generation (no, really, look it up), defined as those in their 50s or 60s sandwiched between aging parents, adult children and grandchildren.

At our house, after supper, you will generally find us at the table together, well, unless you consider the pile of papers, two laptops and one IPAD between us. In the background you may hear the washer, dryer or dishwasher and generally a news channel on the television.  I can’t tell you that this is our idea of fun, though we both enjoy our careers. I can tell you what this represents for us is the quiet time that we can finish work from earlier today, or that project that requires concentration and a cup of coffee. It is the time that allows us an extra hour, or two, during the “regular” workday to be Club Sandwich people!

If you’ve never thought about your place in the Club Sandwich world, there are some really good things about it.  There are also some very difficult things about it. The past eight days have been challenging. Phil’s dad has made one trip to the emergency room and one to the urgent care. Phil has had to pick him up (sometimes from the floor, sometimes a chair, once out of the car) at least four times this week. You see, Grandpa has Parkinson’s Disease and we are doing our best to allow him to be at home. Last Thursday my mom had a stroke, followed by a three-day hospital stay. Now there are mounds of appointments to be set and follow-up to be completed. Then there is the fact that she now can’t drive until she is released by an ophthalmology-neuro specialist. As hard as we try, being part of the Club Sandwich crew is knowing that you can’t always make your aging parents happy. That is the hardest part of what we do, feeling like we have disappointed them, we have not met their expectations. What we want for them, what the doctors tell us they need, isn’t always what they want or agree to. The only “fix” is to keep trying.

If you go back to the first paragraph and re-read the definition you will see that we land in this group because we also have adult children and (in our case) a grandson. We are blessed that our adult children are close (in proximity and relationship). What keeps us moving forward, always, is that sweet time that we can spend, either with Colton or relaxing with the kids. Watching Colton explore his world carries enough sunshine to light up the world on the darkest night. I thought the thirty minute snuggle-fest yesterday afternoon would be the highlight of my last week, until we lay down last night and he asked me to sing dinosaur songs about him. These are songs that he has faith I can make up as we go, and they always involve him and the subject he requests. So far, so good. After two songs last night he simply said, thanks, Nana, and curled up for a night’s rest. That innocence, that we do our best to shield from falls, hospital stays and what the future will bring.

To those of you reading this, look around. Will you be part of this club one day? Will your children be part of the club one day? I encourage you to be prepared. Get those documents done now. Plan to the best of your ability. Even when sickness and disease throws you a different curve each and every day, you can still plan. Plan to do the best that you can do. Plan to lift each other up and love each other through it.

When we leave this world, we may leave behind some material things but what we want to leave is a legacy of love. Love that we have shared with those that mean the most to us.  As for this “club” that we’re in……..I’ve never been known for my ability to be happy just following. How about a club called “Taking Care of our Parents – Even when It’s Less Than Perfect?”

When life makes you part of a club that you don’t care for………start another club.

 

Homelessness, Volunteers & Good Times

I know you’re asking yourself what in the world does this title mean? How can being homeless and volunteers = good times? There is nothing funny about homelessness. If you’ve never been homeless, or you’ve never been around homelessness, let me assure you that the state of being homeless is one of the worst crisis imaginable. If someone lives in a complete state of crisis day after day, after day, they become mired in the hopelessness of where they are. They begin to feel as if there is no way out.  This is why the title of this muse is important.

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Room in the Inn (RITI) is one of my jobs as the Volunteer Programs Director at Homeward Bound of WNC.  More importantly (to me) is that Room in the Inn is where my heart for serving those experiencing homeless began. Here is the RITI rundown. Twelve women x 365 day = 4380 beds available; 36 meals per day (breakfast, lunch & dinner for each lady) x 365 days = 13,140 meals available; two program staff (one program director, one case manager) = more case management conversations that one can measure. Are you overwhelmed yet? Don’t be!

Last evening I attended the annual women’s banquet at Hominy Baptist Church.  I had two RITI program participants accompany me. This isn’t my first banquet with Hominy, nor will it be my last. Who doesn’t want to go to an event that involves over a hundred guests, prizes, great food, an entertaining keynote (always) and more RITI love than one can soak up in three hours! Each of the banquets is themed and last night was about television. We were seated at the Golden Girls table (pretty fitting for us). We began with a great meal, a television game, a video about Room in the Inn and then I spoke, briefly. With a group of people who already know and love Room in the Inn, what do you say? I always give a “numbers” update. Since July 1, 2009 we have served 307 women; we have housed 112 of them (36.5%); of those 112 women there are currently 91% of them still housed (retention rate)!  Those are wonderful program numbers but they don’t tell our whole story. Then I introduced the two program participants, who agreed to join me in my effort to say thanks to this congregation and the volunteers in the room.  How many volunteers, you ask? That number varies per week. Each week there are volunteers who drive, cook, eat with the women, have meaningful conversation with the women, and at least two that agree to stay overnight in their congregation building and watch over the women while they sleep. Amazing, right? Indeed; truly amazing!

Last night it was Michelle and Tish that agreed to accompany me to the banquet. They were nervous but excited. They are in two different places in their journey. Michelle is far enough along that she is finishing up her state certification to become a peer support specialist (look it up)! Tish is just a few months into her journey with RITI and is knocking down her barriers one day at a time. Tish has come so far, in a short amount of time, and we see great things ahead for her. She lived in our area for years before life events landed her homeless. Life events? Yes, each of us has experienced a life event that could have landed us homeless. If we haven’t, we either aren’t being honest about our life events or we don’t recognize those events. Have you ever, or do you know someone who has, experienced a marital problem, a health crisis, suffers from addiction or mental health issues, lost a job? These are all events that, without proper support, might land you in a state of homelessness.  Tish would like to return to the Charlotte area where her family is but for now she remains here because, she says, that she can’t get the case management in Charlotte that she is receiving in RITI. She knows that she needs help to attain her goals but she also needs safe shelter and people who truly care about her. Who are those people?

The heart of Room in the Inn belongs to the multiple volunteers that support it financially and with their hearts. Michelle noted last night while she was speaking that she recognized many faces in the crowd. This, she said, made her feel at home. The ladies tell of the volunteers that talk to them, get them extra pillows at night, cook for them, drive them around and just “love” on them, day after day. Michelle talks about being able to go about her day and complete hard tasks, knowing that she can “run” back to RITI at night and take a deep breath, rest, and go again tomorrow. For many years I have talked about Room in the Inn, lifting our volunteers up as the heart and soul. It is my belief, you see, that the program housing retention numbers are a direct result of two things: a) appropriate case management; and b) the fact that they are nurtured each day by volunteers that give their time because they want to make a difference. It’s not easy to leave your warm bed and sleep only in shifts, but the RITI volunteers do this day after day. While they are with the ladies, their attention is focused on this group of twelve women that so desperately need to know that they are loved, that they are worthy, and that they are entitled to have housing.

When I looked around the room last night what I saw was amazing support. Support from the volunteers for the RITI women. Support among the volunteers for each other. Several of the RITI Steering Committee members were present to support Hominy’s effort: Melissa, a pastor at Hominy Baptist is the chair of our committee; Susan from Skyland UMC; and Kerrie from Trinity of Fairview.  I also saw faith community members from Frances Asbury UMC and from Hendersonville.  You see, this program isn’t about drawing lines and proclamations around who has the best pews.  It is about joining together to support a group of women who find themselves where none of us ever want to be. How can anyone argue with that effort? It is the best, of the best, in ministry together for these women.

Because last night was TV themed, I leave you with a public service announcement:

If you are reading this post and you are a member of a congregation that does not participate in Room in the Inn, email me sharon@homewardboundwnc.org and let’s talk. Having space is not a barrier to hosting and we never turn down financial support.  Room in the Inn is life changing for any congregation willing to open their arms and reach out. Just ask us!

Choose Your Path.

Putting God first in your life creates a path. The path can guide you closer or further away from all that is good. The path can lead you through any crisis and out the other side. I believe that.

We were blessed to attend a Casting Crowns concert last night, our second in four months. You might ask why we would go see them a second time when they are on the same “tour” that we saw before.  One word: WORSHIP!  I am lifted up by the music (who doesn’t love to sing about God, in a real way)? There is something dynamic about being in a room filled with Christ seekers and followers. Let me insert here that I attend church with a room full of seekers and followers. For me, I just want them to let go and worship – hands in the air, praising the One who gives and takes away!

Listening to Mark Hall (Casting Crowns front man) talk about his “real” job as a youth pastor, the joys and concerns that come with that and how all of their songs were once Bible studies is great. But when he talks about his crisis of experiencing cancer and how it made him want to run, hid and take control, only to realize that he could never control the outcome and had to turn right back to his faith, is humbling. Each band member in Casting Crowns is a youth leader. They generally tour Thursday – Saturday because each of them has a youth group to lead in their own church. What a grueling path. What a blessed path.

Unspoken, a group that I’m not that familiar with (think Vanilla Ice) opened. If you don’t know who they are, just check them out online. Thirteen years ago Chad Matson (front man) was battling drug and alcohol addiction.  Chad was on THAT path, you know, the one that keeps you clean and sober until AFTER Bible study – when you go and get higher than high.  Chad found his path by seeking a relationship with Jesus Christ. He talks a lot about the church – referring to everyone in the room – and how we will find peace by letting go and walking a path to God.

Tell Your Heart to Beat Again. I first heard Danny Gokey sing this song as I was driving home from Nashville. I had spent several hours with my brother, Cyndi and Tom (Jessica’s boyfriend) making funeral arrangements for my niece, Jessica, who died from a brain aneurysm at a young 39 years old.  It hit me in so many different ways, among the emotions of that day. Primarily, I wanted to reach out to those who felt Jessica’s loss so deeply and let them know that their hearts would be again….never in the same way but they would beat again. Gokey has had a crazy path from losing a young wife, to American Idol, to deep depression, a new marriage and finally headed up the ladder as a Christian artist.

Life is full of choices. We all make choices each day that affect our paths in much larger ways that just today. Where is your path leading you? For me, I’m just trying to stay on the path that allows me to live the best life I can and do all the good I can as a Christ follower.

#justmythoughts   #nanatruth  #soblessed

 

There is only one.

In our family there is only one brother.  Today he is celebrating his birthday. Rather than write a history lesson of brotherly love, I am going to write sentences or short paragraphs that bring back very fond (mostly) memories of this now grown man.

Coolest tree house in our neighborhood.

Dog that hunted, and hunted, and hunted, and wouldn’t shut up when we needed to sleep.

Green VW bug (along with many cars that I cannot describe).

Triumph; loud and proud.

Convertible.all-of-us

Busch beer (nasty).

Sliding rock, over and over and over and over and over.

Little green tree frogs (wait, those come naturally in grocery bags….right)?

The Ghost Ship.

My first real pair of jeans (you know, the cool kind).

My brother is in the band playing at that club tonight (bonus points)!

How many guys did you threaten at the skating rink?

You left home before I did and I missed you so much my heart hurt.

You traveled, you played, you worked and you “did” life differently than me.

Guarding the tent.

My love went with you each step of the way. Our adult lives have proven that there are some things one cannot mess with…..our love is on that list.  If anyone doubts that you can ask ………wait, maybe not (some things are better left in the past where they belong).

Cyndi, our sister, truly one of us. Cyndi, the love of your life and the one that makes you smile. I am grateful beyond time that God brought the two of you together, where you have discovered the love that you deserve.

I could go on for hours, Bobo.  There is only one awesome brother in our world.  Know that I love you…..now and forever.

Sharon