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Articles written by: Lillian Carol Russell
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January 29, 2007
By: Lillian "Carol" Russell
I suppose that as children, time seems to move slowly, I know it did for me. I was in a hurry to be grown, to conquer the world. I had dreams to fulfill, I was anxious to grow up, ready to run the race of life. As we get older, the miles we've trod on the road of life fade into vague memories. We find ourselves looking back through the gossamer veil of time, thinking a lot about yesterday, amazed and wondering where the years went. We still feel young at heart, but our bodies tell a different story.
Someone aptly said that life is like a roll of toilet paper, the closer to the end it gets the faster it goes. We marvel at the brevity and often the foolishness of our youth. A wise old saying so often comes to mind now days as I watch young people speeding about with no direction to their lives: “Youth is wasted on the young.” How wise the person who coined that phrase. Youth is spent in the fast lane, for the most part in a state of unawareness of the world around. We all start out self-centered; our need is all that matters to us. Maturity begins when you think more of others than of yourself, when you realize that the world does not revolve around you.
Only with age do we become wise enough to treasure each moment in life. That is why we grandparents love our grandchildren so much, we know about the ticking of the clock. We spoil them a bit because we were not wise enough to spend the extra time with our own children. We were just too busy working, running to school events and just trying to keep them fed and clothed.
I am so thankful that God in His wisdom slows us down and allows us golden years of reflection. How sad it would be if we rushed headlong to the end, never fully appreciating our Lord and savior and the wonders He has created for us.
By: Lillian Carol Russell
Not a sign of a cloud in the sky today,
The breeze is cool that blows my way.
The trees look so sad I could almost cry,
As they reach their bare arms to the bright blue sky.
Around my feet the leaves lie dead,
No lovely colors of green, gold or red.
Soon the air will lose it's chill,
Once more to spring our hearts will thrill.
The flowers will bloom, the grass will grow,
Once more earth will begin the greatest show.
Winter like death is a cold lonely thing,
It would be unbearable without the promise of spring.
My life would be the same if I didn't know,
That my Savior has prepared a place for me to go.
More beautiful is heaven than the rarest bloom is spring,
And heaven shall be mine after life's brief fling.
Because Jesus, shed His Blood and bore my pain,
After the winter of my life, heaven shall be my gain.
No death, no sickness, no tears will I shed there,
To the beauty of heaven, not even spring can compare.
“A Slice of Life”
#37
Written for the Dalhart Texan News Paper
May 30, 2007
“Hold on to Happy Thoughts”
By: Lillian Carol Russell
Years ago I worked with a dear lady named Vivian who taught me much about life. She was a source of strength. It was her nature to greet everyone with a smile, she loved laughter. I often recall things she said to me. If I fretted over some small matter, which to me seemed at the time enormous, she with a loving parental smile would say; “Oh honey, don’t worry over that, a hundred years from now it won’t matter.” Then I did not understand the tremendous scope of the meaning of her words as I do now. There were always people who seemed to thrive on hurting your feelings. Vivian’s advice was always, “Just let it roll over you, like water off a duck’s back.” Those of you who have worked with the public know that you can not please every one, no matter how hard you try, you can do double back flips and turn yourself wrong-side out, but there will be someone out there who will not be satisfied. It has taken me years to come to a full understanding of Vivian’s words of wisdom.
We live in the age of anxiety, whoever coined the phrase; “Don’t sweat the small stuff.” really said a mouth full. So often the things we worry over never come to pass and we’ve wasted valuable time. The Bible tells us not to worry in Luke 12:22-30 and in Psalms . 37:1-7. When we worry, we fail to allow God to take care of our situation. We make our lives absolutely miserable when we get caught up in hate, worry or anger. Christens need not be filled with fret or fear, God is bigger than the boogie man, He will supply our needs, after all He supplied His own Son as a sacrifice for our weakness and sin. We just have to trust Him and open up the lines of communication. In all our ways we are to acknowledge Him and He will make our paths straight. Have faith, trust and obey, knowing that as it says in Romans 8:28, all things work together for good to those who love the Lord.
Hold on to happy thoughts, God commands it of us in Philippians. We are all in charge of our happiness. If we choose to hold on to bitterness and anger it will stifle the joy that is ours for the choosing. Sure there are going to be times of heart ache and pain in life and from these things we grow and mature. It is when we throw ourselves a pity party every day, hashing over old wounds without being willing to forgive and move on that we are choosing to be unhappy.
Going Down With the Ship
By: Lillian Carol Russell
She threw a pity party, not many people came,
They knew the entertainment was always the same.
Not really caring what other people thought so long as they agreed,
That everyone had done her wrong and not fulfilled her need.
No one else could have a problem that was half so big as hers now,
She’d picked at her mental wounds, no healing to allow.
Choosing to dwell on every little hurtful deed,
Not trusting God to fulfill her every need.
The more she dwelt in anger, the fewer people came,
And soon she found that there was no one else to blame.
How sad that some will not trust Him and refuse to obey,
Choosing instead to live their lives in such a sinful way.
Choosing misery over happiness, clinging to it for life,
Feeding on the kinds of things that only bring them strife.
Choosing always to sail on life’s most miserable trip,
Not giving it over to Jesus the life boat, but going down with the ship.
Philippians 4:8 …Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.
“A Slice of Life”
#36
Written for the Dalhart Texan News Paper
May 22, 2007
“Full Hearts and Empty Nest”
By: Lillian Carol Russell
For the past two week-ends we’ve been out shopping on Friday nights a bit late for us but we got to see some beautiful young people in their prom attire. It made me aware of how many mothers will be going through the empty nest syndrome as they watch their children graduate and go off to collage. Some will move out to try their wings, some will marry. Their hearts will all be so full of excitement, eager with anticipation to be on their own. While they experience elation at the new prospects life offers, they leave behind an empty nest for mom and dad and quite often a very deep heartache at the loss of a way of life.
When you hold that new born baby in your arms, so soft and sweet, you think it is yours. Nobody tells you that one day you have to take your baby to school, nobody warns you how fast the years will fly and that one day you will have to open the door and set them free. But that’s the way it is, the way it has to be if we love them and want them to prosper and do well.
When our son joined the Navy I cried for weeks, every morning hugging his pillow and soaking it with tears. Then when our daughter married and moved away to South Carolina, it was the same thing only worse because she was the baby and now the nest was truly empty. But God in His wisdom gave me time to cry and to get strong again. It was when I really turned to my poetry writing again. It was better than any medicine to sooth a hurting heart. Today’s poem came from that time of pain.
To all the hurting parents out there, just know that time will heal your pain. I still miss my sweet babies, that never changes, but God has blessed me with three wonderful grandchildren. My son and daughter have both grown up to be wonderful adult friends.
CHILDREN FOREVER AND A DAY
By: Lillian Carol Russell
(Since writing this so many years ago, I have discovered that being a grandmother is one of the greatest joys I’ve known. What a blessing to be able to spend time with my grandchildren and teach them and love them without being in a rush as it was in the days of my youth.)
It seems so long ago and far away,
That I watched my little children play.
Our son with hair so blonde and eyes of blue,
The image of his dad, ‘twas true.
The most precious daughter of any,
With hair the color of a new copper penny.
With boundless energy they grew so fast;
The mold was made, the die was cast.
If only I could only go back in time,
To the days of diaper and nursery rhyme.
Each moment I’d savor more precious than gold,
In my arms once more those babies to hold.
Perhaps a better parent I would be,
As I bounced each one upon my knee?
But only God can see through time and space
And know the end before the beginning takes place.
And so with youthful abandon I let moments slip away,
Thinking they’d be children forever and a day.
Young parent listen and hear me well,
These words of wisdom that I tell:
Savor each moment and hold it fast,
For quickly is the childhood past.
And once your children are all grown,
Your heart will ache for them when they’ve gone.
You will miss the giggles, the hugs, and wiping little tears,
And be amazed how they grew up in such a few short years.
Ephesians Chapter 6:
1 Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right.
2 Honour thy father and mother; which is the first commandment with promise;
3 That it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth.
4 And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.
5 Servants, be obedient to them that are your masters according to the flesh, with fear and trembling, in singleness of your heart, as unto Christ;
6 Not with eye service, as men pleasers; but as the servants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart;
7 With good will doing service, as to the Lord, and not to men:
8 Knowing that whatsoever good thing any man doeth, the same shall he receive of the Lord, whether he be bond or free.
9 And, ye masters, do the same things unto them, forbearing threatening: knowing that your Master also is in heaven; neither is there respect of persons with him.
10 Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.
“A Slice of Life”
#35
Written for the Dalhart Texan News Paper
May 15, 2007
“My Days in Child Labor Camp”
By: Lillian Carol Russell
My fourth grade granddaughter told me that she wanted to get a summer job, maybe at McDonald’s. She was not pleased when I told her she was too young to work. “But I can do the job!” she said. There is no doubt, she could run the register, cook, whatever, and better than some that are of working age. This kid is one smart cookie; she was correcting my English by the time she was three. I explained the child labor law to her and she said; “Well that just stinks.”
Looking back on my childhood days, I realize that my dad’s family ran a child labor camp and it was the greatest thing any child could ever experience. My dad came from a family of 12 siblings, when his dad died I was 13 and I had at that time 46 first cousins as best I can count. Now I have no idea how many cousins I have. These Aunts and Uncles were scattered about Louisiana and Mississippi.
It was before the time of convenience stores and everyone grew their food and canned it for the winter. Life was good back then. We went to Aunt Chloe’s house when it was time to harvest cucumbers. We hit the patch early in the day while it was cool. It was a game to see who could get the most the fastest. Then we all sat round on the big back porch, talked and watched Aunt Chloe wash and slice the cucumbers into a large vat where they soaked for a time and then they were moved to the next vat to age and then she cooked and sealed the jars. I’m sure the aroma of pickles both sweet and dill could be smelled for miles around. She made big biscuits that we ate with the hot fresh cooked pickles. Oh to go back to that dinner table for one more serving.
When the beans came in we went to visit Uncle Bill & Aunt Martha in Mississippi. Now you talking about some good times, nobody told us we were working. Well there was this one day that we kind of figured it out. The grown-ups picked the beans and brought them in. They dumped them into a mountain and we kids sat round in a circle shelling into our pans. Once more there was the thrill of who could shell the most the fastest. After a couple of days of shelling peas someone got what we all thought was a brilliant idea! I think it was Joan, but we all thought it was a smart thing to do. We would hide unshelled peas in the hulls, get through sooner and go out to play. We didn’t count on Aunt Martha being so smart. When she dumped the hulls, oh my! We got to see her have a finger wagging full blown conniption fit and it was scary. It was also one of those life lessons that I will never forget. She explained how those beans were their sustenance for the winter and that we were never to waste food like that, plus a lot of other things we all needed to hear.
Some of my fondest memories happened while staying with Uncle Bill & Aunt Martha. Oh the stories I could tell of adventures in those Mississippi hills, like the night my cousin Joan and I decided to take a chair out into the field and gaze at the stars. A circus train had wrecked in the woods behind their home and wild animals had escaped a few years before. We were trying to pick out the constellations and dreaming the dreams that young hearts dream. Discussing when we grow up scenarios, when not too far away, we heard the roar of some large animal. We bolted for the house, arriving at the back door at the same time. This was a narrow back door and we lodged, neither wanting to be the last one in, both of us scratched our arms before we catapulted through by force of will.
Aunt Martha cooked some of the best meals, her table always spread with plenty of rib sticking meat gravy and vegetables. You never left her table hungry. I remember when she was pouring the iced tea she poured Uncle Bill’s first, he drank it all while she poured the rest, then he would say; “Marty, you’re not going to give me any tea?” I remember one winter morning we had spent the weekend there and all us girls slept on pallets in the living room. I always slept with my knees drawn up, that morning I woke up to find uncle Bill sitting in front of the heater using my knees as a back rest while he strummed his guitar and sang, “Tumbling Tumble Weeds”. It has been one of my favorite songs ever since.
Child labor, it was a good thing; it taught us lessons that made us who we are today. I thank God for it, it is one of the things that’s gone away, part of the old days, but it left a beautiful memory in my heart’s treasure.
LIFE'S ONLY JUST BEGUN
By: Lillian Carol Russell
I painted my wagon then hitched it to a star,
In youth I thought I'd do so much, but I haven't traveled very far.
My wagon needs repainting now, it's weathered and it's worn,
My bubble hasn't burst yet, but it's pretty badly torn.
When did it happen that my youth slipped away?
I was so young and active, it seems like yesterday.
Now my body doesn't work so well, each movement causes pain,
My nimble days are over, my youth has been slain.
Each step I take now seems uphill,
Sometimes just getting out of bed takes all my will.
This vessel's breaking down a little day by day,
But it's only temporary; it's only made of clay.
When the Master calls me home, how wondrous it will be,
A glorified body for all eternity.
Never an ache, not a twinge of pain,
I'll be with my Lord and my loved ones again.
No tears in heaven, my God has promised no tears,
Joy ever always, no worries, no fears.
For God so loved the world, He sent His only Son,
Now when I die, I know for sure, life's only just begun.
Psalm 34:4,5 …"I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered in shame"
]
“A Slice of Life”
#34
Written for the Dalhart Texan News Paper
May 9, 2007
“A Special Spring Blessing”
By: Lillian Carol Russell
Sometimes something out of the ordinary happens and just blesses us with a special joy. I always keep a seasonal wreath on my front door. As spring approached I hung out a lovely Hibiscus wreath, it’s purple and blue flowers a treat each time I return home. A couple of weeks ago as I drove up, I noticed a tiny brown bird fly from the wreath. Sure enough when I checked, there was a nest right at the bottom with three tiny white eggs the size of jelly beans. I thought poor silly bird; you will never be able to hatch your babies with all the comings and goings here. Each time I opened the door she flew away and I peeked at the wee little eggs.
Yesterday when I checked the mail and the eggs, something did not look right. I only saw one white egg, but as my eyes focused I saw two little pink spots that seemed to be wiggling. Oh my, we have babies, what a blessing. Maybe that little bird was smarter than I thought; her nest was sheltered from the wind and rain, even if she does have to deal with people. I rushed to the computer and printed out a sign that reads: “Be careful when opening door, newly hatched baby birds in nest in wreath on door.” They are so tiny. I fear they will be knocked out of the nest if the wind catches the door as it sometimes will. It appears that only two eggs are going to hatch. This morning I see a little covering of fur on the minute creatures and they are beginning to look like baby birds. They appear to be more beak than bird. I am so excited I keep wanting to open the door and peek at them but I know they need to be left alone if they are to survive, we open the door too much as it is.
Years ago, back in Louisiana, I had hung out the laundry to dry one day, something I always enjoyed. There is just something about clean sheets and towels billowing in a breeze that makes me feel good. I think it takes me back to fond memories of following my grandmother as she hung clothes out to dry. Back in Louisiana clothes dried on the line had a wonderful fresh scent, which is missing here. I’ve finally decided that it is all the pine and flowers blooming that scent the air there. Before we moved here the grand children used to come out to the van when we drove here to visit and say that it smelled like Louisiana inside it. Getting back to the laundry on the line, while the clothes hung out to dry that day a very industrious little mama bird thought she had found the perfect spot for a home and had built a nest in my husband’s underwear. I threw it out and washed them, looking back I wish now that I had let them remain as a bird house.
Ernest Hemingway said that “The only thing that could spoil a day was people. People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself.” Let us always remember to be as sweet as spring time so that we do not spoil the days that God has given us.
THE GIFT OF SPRING
By: Lillian Carol Russell
Winter came and spoke with a chill,
Covering the land with an icy kill.
Nights are still cool; days are getting warmer,
Spring is upon us and she’s a real charmer.
Daffodils burst forth in their golden glory,
Birds are singing their new love story.
Tender new leaves adorn aging trees,
The Lord in His wisdom gave us all of these.
These gifts that remind us that all is not lost.
Because of a savior who went to the cross.
He died there, our savior our king,
He defeated death and rose again just like spring.
So let spring remind us that eternal life is ours,
A gift from God through His mighty powers.
LUKE 6:38 ... “Give, and it shall be given to you. For whatever measure you deal out to others, it will be dealt to you in return.”
________________________________________
“A Slice of Life”
#33
Written for the Dalhart Texan News Paper
May 2, 2007
”Moving On"
By: Lillian Carol Russell
I am in the slow process of moving and it is a slow process; a lot of the slowness is to ease the pain of leaving this house that I’ve come to love. As much as I love my new dream house, ground level, no steps for these old bones to climb, I look at this place and the yard and the flowers and know that I will be sad to leave it behind.
I am reminded of the first brand new care that I remember our family buying. Back then we had an old black Model T. Everyone we knew had a black car or black truck. Well daddy took us to the dealership to see this dream car. It had a white top over the most beautiful sky blue bottom. We were spell-bound, we wanted it so bad, and every day when daddy got home from work for a week we loaded up and went to the dealership to look at the car, it was sheer ecstasy. We begged daddy to buy it, then one day he came home and said, “Today we are going to buy the new car.” There was a lot of jumping up and down and shouts of glee until he said; “Get everything out of the car, so we can trade it in.”
Wait just a minute, nobody told me we had to give up the old car, I loved that old car, and it was part of the family. I sobbed and cried all the way to the dealership, I begged to keep the old heap, how could we just leave it in a strange place all alone. Daddy assured me that the old car had served its purpose and we no longer needed it. My joy over the new car was dampened by the lump in my throat as I watched our old black car fade into the distance. There were a lot of tears shed over that old heap of metal but it represented the beginning of change and a lesson that nothing stays the same. Sometimes in order to progress, we have to leave some old baggage behind and move forward. If we spend today worrying about yesterday, then we have no hope of a happy tomorrow. Times change, people change and places change, that is just the way it is.
Time is but the stream I go a-fishin in. I drink at it, but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. It's thin current slides away, but eternity remains. ~Henry David Thoreau~
Time in A Bottle
By; Lillian Carol Russell
Remember the old song, "If I Could Put Time In A Bottle, I'd spend every moment with you"?
It's the sort of thing if given the chance, most of us would do.
Reliving childhood days that were such fun,
Running and laughing and playing in the sun.
Holding new born babies, rocking them to sleep,
All those precious moments in time that just don't keep.
God in His wisdom did not this option give,
For He knew we would never go forward to live.
We would refuse the pain that makes us stronger,
Choosing to remain in joy a little longer.
Ever retreating to past happier times and places,
Choosing not to run in life's trying races.
It's the bumps in life we should use to climb,
Reaching and growing to heights sublime.
As we leave behind the happy moments from today,
Others will come somewhere along the way.
God gives us our memories and the promise of eternal joy for all,
If on the name of His Son we will call.
The heartaches and pain we encounter along the way,
Make us better, stronger people as we face each new day.
John 10:11 …Jesus is the good shepherd who watches over his children, and laid down his life for the forgiveness of sin and redemption of his flock.
“A Slice of Life”
#32
Written for the Dalhart Texan News Paper
April 25, 2007
” On Becoming a Mother"
By: Lillian Carol Russell
I did not write the following article and I wish I knew who to give the credit to; I received it in an email a few years ago and saved it because it was so good:
-Author unknown
We are sitting at lunch when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." "We're taking a survey," she says, half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?" "It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral. "I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations...."
But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but that becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable. I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking: "What if that had been my child; that every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her; that when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.
I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub; that an urgent call of "Mom!"; will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moment's hesitation.
I feel I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of her discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is alright.
I want my daughter to know that everyday decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.
However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother. Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years - not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs. I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor. My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.
I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children's future.
I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or a cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real, it actually hurts.
My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reach across the table, squeeze my daughter's hand and offer a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all of the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings, this blessed gift from God that of being a Mother.
(My praises to whoever the lady was that wrote this, she has captured the essence of mother-hood and each time I read this I cry.) Anne Bronte said that: "He that dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the rose.”
Pain is part of life, but we should grow from it and believe me becoming a mother teaches us much of love and growth as we endure one of the greatest pains of all, watching our children suffer the trials of life. Surely God feels this ache for us His children as He watches us blindly stumble along the road of life when we refuse to turn to Him for guidance.
Happy Mother’s Day to every one of you who have known this strange and wonderful feeling of being a mother.
A MOTHER’S HEART
By; Lillian Carol Russell
Watch her there at play;
Holding her doll in a loving way.
God gives every little girl a mother’s heart,
While very young she begins to play the part.
She’ll practice on dolly what she learns from you,
You must teach her early what is good and what is true.
Like a vapor her childhood soon will be past,
And the baby in her arms will be real at last.
She’ll learn much of sorrow, happiness and strife,
While nurturing God’s gift of a new little life.
She’ll suffer every pain the child goes though,
And she’ll love them as only a mother can do.
Then all too soon will come the day,
When she opens the door and walks away.
Then once more the cycle will start,
A new baby girl, born with a mother’s heart.
Matthew 5:16 In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.
“A Slice of Life”
Written for the Dalhart Texan News Paper
April 17, 2007
#31
” THE THREE THIEVES "
By: Lillian Carol Russell
Anger, Anguish, Aggravation these are the three thieves that steal our joy and shorten our lives. Looking back through the years I’ve known some people who seemed to love to be in one or all of these attitudes. Abraham Lincoln said: “Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be” This is the case with a relative of mine and I’ve finally realized that nothing that I can do will change her until she decides to be happy.
Anger is sinful when it is expressed in wrong actions. When we blow up at someone, psychologist call it venting, God calls it sin. We often use the energy mobilized by this emotion to tear down others. It is the wise man or woman who maintains self-control. If you have justified anger, deal with it in a calm manner. Anger generates more anger and in the feeding frenzy it becomes a monster, totally out of control, devouring all that gets in its destructive path.
Forgiveness is the best salve there is for a hurting heart. Holding on to bitterness will destroy us. In the long run, we lose when we hang on to the pain. Forgiveness is a choice we make, not because the person or persons deserve to be forgiven, but because God commands us to love one another. He hates the sin, but loves the sinner, and that is how we should be. It’s a hard task to forgive when we’ve been wronged, because we are not able to forget. Some of the pains from past experiences run themselves through my mind like reruns of an old movie on a seemingly regular basis. I have to run to God in prayer and ask for strength to love and to forgive. (Proverbs 29:11 A fool uttereth all his mind: but a wise man keepeth it in till afterwards.)
Anger Is An Evil Power
By: Lillian Carol Russell
Anger speaks with cruel words that cut just like a knife, Imparting bitter feelings of pain and hurt and strife.
Anger is the devil’s tool; he uses it often to destroy the golden rule.
Always treat others the very same way;
That you’d have them treat you day after day.
Take time to say I’m sorry if I’ve hurt or caused you pain,
Give no power to anger, never let this monster reign.
Oh wouldn’t the world be a wonderful place,
If everyone treated his fellow man with only love and grace.
Psalms 34:14-17 …Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it. The eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous, and His ears open unto their cry. The face of the Lord is against those who do evil, to cut off remembrance of them from the earth. The righteous cry, and the Lord heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles.
“A Slice of Life”
Written for the Dalhart Texan News Paper
April 11, 2007
#30
”BUZZARD, BAT & BUMBLE BEE"
By: Lillian Carol Russell
In this life there are intelligent people and there are wise people and the two are quite different. Knowledge we gain from our education but wisdom must be imparted by God. In my lifetime I’ve known some really smart people who really fell short on the wisdom scale. Proverbs 2:6 says “For the Lord giveth Wisdom: out of His mouth cometh knowledge and understanding. Knowledge without wisdom is a dangerous thing.
I read that if you put a Buzzard in a pen that is 6 feet by 8 feet and is entirely open at the top, the bird, in spite of its ability to fly, will be an absolute prisoner. The reason is that a Buzzard always begins a flight from the ground with a run of 10 to 12 feet. Without space to run, as is its habit, it will not even attempt to fly, but will remain a prisoner for life in a small jail with no top. Also the ordinary Bat that flies around at night, a remarkably nimble creature in the air, can not take off from a level place. If it is placed on the floor or flat ground, all it can do is shuffle about helplessly and, no doubt painfully, until it reaches some slight elevation from which it can throw itself into the air. Then, at once, it takes off like a flash.
A Bumble Bee, if dropped into an open tumbler, will be there until it dies, unless it is taken out. It never sees the means of escape at the top, but persists in trying to find some way out through the sides near the bottom. It will seek a way where none exists, until it completely destroys itself.
In many ways, we are like the Buzzard, the Bat, and the Bumble Bee. We struggle with all our problems and frustrations, never realizing that the answer is so simple. The Bible tells us in James that we have not, because we ask not. In First John 5:14 we are told: “And this is the confidence that we have in him that, if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.” The last part of that is really important, because sometimes we ask for things that are outside of His will. He being a loving Father will not give us that which will hurt us and sometimes we can not see the danger in what we want.
My youngest granddaughter was fascinated with scissors when she was very small. She was drawn to them like a magnet. She did not see the hidden danger in the shinny things that could cut paper, and once a big swatch of her hair. She was sneaky and got them sometimes when no one was looking. It was a constant battle protecting her from the danger that she could not see in this amazing object. She called them no-no’s because every time her little hand reached for them, someone said, NO-NO. Our Father in heaven knows when we make a request of Him if it will turn out to be a no-no. Like that song, “I Thank God for Unanswered Prayer” Be thankful what ever the answer to your prayer, because God makes no mistakes.
Recently I watched a TV special on the effects of prayer. Studies, they found, proved that prayer actually works. I already knew that. I’ve seen prayer work in my life so many times. We don’t go to our Heavenly Father as we should. You know how when you've done something for your kids or grandchildren and they just don’t seem to appreciate it, the indifference really hurts. It must be the same way for our Father in heaven. He gives and gives and yet so often we only go to Him when things get all messed up and we are desperate. We should wake up with thoughts of praise, we should thank Him during the day and when we place our heads on our pillows at night, our last thoughts should be filled with praise.
HIS WORD
By: Lillian Carol Russell
God’s inspired word was written long ago,
His rules to live and love by, so that all of us would know.
Yet Bibles lay unopened on tables everywhere,
Too busy now, no time to read, no time to learn, no time to care.
For every situation there is a master plan,
It is written there to guide us, every women, child and man.
Take the time to study to learn, sit down and read,
His word is there to guide through every hurt and every need.
The trip’s not always easy as we travel down life’s road,
But the Word is there to help us when we can not bear the load.
Isaiah 11:2 And the spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the Lord.
“A Slice of Life”
#29
Written for the Dalhart Texan News Paper
April 1, 2007
Little Girls and Lace
By: Lillian Carol Russell
Long ago Easter meant getting a pretty new dress from the Sears Catalogue. My earliest memory, other than chocolate rabbits and Easter baskets filled with divine goodies was sitting down with the catalogue to pick out our Easter outfits. It was the only time of the year that we ever got a frilly dress. Usually our clothes were made from cotton flour sacks. Mama always bought flour in 25 pound sacks. I remember we ate a lot of biscuits and gravy, or sometimes biscuits and syrup but what ever the meal there were biscuits and or corn bread. Those old flour sacks were pretty, just like the material you buy now days. Some of the very old quilts are made with these flour sack cotton prints. As we grew, it would take two sacks to make a dress, or even three, depending on how flared the skirt, so we had to save up sacks. My favorite I remember to this day was a green plaid with a flared skirt that mama trimmed in rickrack.
Getting anything from the catalogue was fun but this dress was really special. I remember sitting for hours, turning pages and day-dreaming of owning the clothes in that book. All the pretty spring dresses of pastel colors made it hard to choose. In the end mama always did the choosing. One thing was for sure it would be made of organdy and have ruffles and lace. Back then little girls were all about ribbons, ruffles and bows. Things sure have changed a lot and it is something we seldom see now days. We always got white patent leather shoes, white lace trimmed socks and white lace gloves. That was about as close as you could come to feeling like a real princess.
The day before Easter we went to “Bannie’s” house; that is what we called our mother’s mother. Dying Easter eggs was something everyone did, children and grown-ups. There would be dozens and dozens and dozens, everyone squealing with pleasure and exclaiming, “Oh look at this one!” I don’t know what Bannie used for dye but the egg colors were brilliant. For supper we ate the cracked eggs and there was always plenty.
Early Easter morning my aunt and uncle would hide all the eggs in the big pasture behind the house. After church we all gathered there for a big dinner with lots of delicious food. We kids were too excited to eat and already full of candy. We were ready to go to the big pasture; there were treasures to be found, Easter eggs were hidden over what would be at least three football fields in size. Oh to have a smidgeon of the energy that I had back then. “Youth is wasted on the young”. We hunted until dark, but we never found all the eggs, we hunted for weeks after Easter, up into the summer. Of course the eggs were rotten by now but what a thrill to yell, “I found one”, and then toss it far into the woods.
Though these things make for beautiful memories that spring forth to an old woman's heart as if it were yesterday, it's not all about little girls and lace, nor is it about chocolate rabbits and baskets full of candy and pretty colored eggs. All these things make fond memories but do not even begin to compare to the message that He is risen.
HE IS RISEN
By: Lillian Carol Russell
Think of how our Savior died,
A shameful death and stripped of pride.
He carried the cross that was His own,
Until He stumbled, His strength all gone.
They scorned Him and cursed Him and someone said,
A crown should be placed upon His head.
It was fashioned of thorns, sharp to prick the skin,
And the blood flowed down His face where they stuck in.
They placed spikes through His feet then drove them through each hand,
His body nailed firm, the cross was raised on Golgotha’s Hill to stand.
My God, My God why hast Thou forsaken me He cried,
Then taking with Him all our sin, He gave up the Spirit and died.
He hung on that cross, rejected and alone,
Taking with Him every sin, but none that were His own.
To the tomb they went to anoint Him early in the day,
They found that he had risen, the stone was rolled away.
Praise God for Jesus who rose again,
Defeated sin and death and with the Father now does reign.
Praise God for saving grace,
For Jesus who died for sin in my place.
John, 11. 25 …I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die
“A Slice of Life”
#28
Written for the Dalhart Texan News Paper
March 26, 2007
A LIFE OF ENTERTAINMENT
By: Lillian Carol Russell
Since the beginning of time we have loved to be entertained. Great amphitheaters in ancient Rome and in ancient Greece attest to this fact. Since time began there have been story tellers and before television and movies there were traveling shows. It was not only entertainment but education. We learn the most when things are presented by way of entertainment.
I remember as a child that my dad’s dad would sit on the porch with us kids and tell many stories. Some true, some for sport; like the time he told us that if we could kiss our elbow, we would change into a boy. My sister and I tried so hard to kiss our elbow. He told us that when he was small he was a little girl until he kissed his elbow, of course we believed him. He roared with laughter watching us try this impossible task.
My dad also loved to tell stories. Once when we were going to visit one of his sisters, another aunt and uncle rode with us. On the way there we passed a stone house, he said that they had built the house out of special growing rocks. It was a tiny little house when first built, but through the years it had really grown. He was teasing us kids but Aunt Irene fell for it too. For years we watched that house grow, every time were drove past it, daddy would say; ”Boy that house has grown since we were here last. My sister and I could really see it growing, or so we thought. Daddy really got a big laugh the day we called his hand because we had learned that rocks do not grow. There was a lesson in the old stone cottage. He taught us to speculate, to think before accepting things at face value.
The power of suggestion is very strong and when used in the right way it can actually help children learn. Convincing a child that he or she is smart can do wonders toward making them believe in them selves. They can reach new heights because they believe they can. Tell a child he is dumb and he will be, because that is what he believes, therefore he will never try as hard and never be the best that he could be.
Sometimes I think that life was just better way back when things were so much simpler, and people helped people, and everyone knew their neighbors for miles around. It was fun being a kid back in the day when we entertained ourselves.
When I was a young bride, I took my husband’s Granny Russell grocery shopping every week. Each time we passed a house with a TV antenna she would say; “Just look at the devil’s horn sticking up out of that house.” I did not know at the time how wise a woman she was in that summarization. Even though I watch television everyday of my life, I know that granny was right; a lot of bad things have come into our hearts and minds by way of it.
A BETTER DAY
By: Lillian Carol Russell
When I was a kid, what fun we had,
Visiting folks with my mom and dad.
It’s something people just don’t do anymore,
It takes too much time, it’s such a chore.
Twelve kids in daddy’s family and five in my mother’s,
And we visited each and every of the sisters and brothers.
Daddy got in from work and we hopped in the car,
During the week we never traveled very far,
Always a pot of coffee and friendly chat,
Then daddy said; “Come on girls, it’s time to scat.”
With so many cousins there was always a lot to do,
Playing games, having fun and we did some chatting too.
I often wonder how we had so much time back then,
Enough to work, grow a garden and visit with a friend?
Week-ends we’d visit his siblings far away,
Most often we went for the night to stay.
No television in our home back then and life was good,
People cared for each other the way that they should.
Not many conveniences way back then,
But you never had to lock your door, there was way less sin.
The devil has us by the throat it really seems to me,
We welcomed him in you know, he came by way of TV.
Philippians 1:13,14 This one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press on toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.
“A Slice of Life”
#27
Written for the Dalhart Texan News Paper
March 20, 2007
HOW THE COW ATE THE CABBAGE
By: Lillian Carol Russell
Sunday morning I enjoyed the sermon Richard Weightman preached, more than any I have heard in a long time. He said, that he had given some thought to the sermon and decided to just do like his mama said and tell “How the Cow ate the Cabbage.” Now by that he meant just the facts, the old time religion facts, back to the basics. And that my friend is just what we heard and it was a feast for the soul. Oh how I miss that kind of preaching!
That is just what is missing from today’s messages. It seems that so many are trying to put a new angle on God’s word. I caught just a little bit of a news clip the other night where this new group was going at it by concentrating on manly stuff in the Bible, like when Jesus got mad in the temple. They said God was too soft and that’s why people are losing interest. They did not intend to ignore the rest of the bible but would emphasize the tough side of Christianity. I had myself a little dose of righteous indignation when I heard that! PLEASE, the reason people are losing interest is because the old devil, who is very real, has a grip on the world. No one wants to offend anyone now days. We need to get back to the basics. As Weightman said, the best commentary on the bible is the bible. We get further and further from it daily, I’m not saying don’t read other Christian books, but we must be careful when we listen to man’s interpretation of God’s word!
Don’t ever think that you can’t just preach the basics, that’s hogwash. I had a pastor back in Louisiana, Bob Simpson, who always preached it right from the bible, just the basics. I listened to him Wednesdays and twice on Sundays and I never heard him preach a dull or boring sermon. He always opened with a joke to get everyone laughing, like one I remember: He said a salesman was driving in a rural area and came up on a chicken running so fast he had to speed up to 70 to catch up with it. It turned into a farm road and he followed it. He stopped and asked the farmer who was out working if he saw the chicken? The farmer said; “Yep, we all like drumsticks around here so we breed chickens with three legs.” “Well how do they taste?” asked the salesman. “We don’t know,” replied the farmer, “We can’t catch ‘em.” Then, bam; while you were still laughing he blessed you with the true word of God. Usually you were wiping tears when you got there from his humor and you were wiping tears when you left because God’s word had squeezed your heart. You could hear a pin drop, because it was what we had gone to church for, we wanted to be fed on God’s word. You did not fall asleep when he preached.
There is no end to subject matter in the bible, every thing we need is there. Bob Simpson loved the Lord and he loved his people. If teens or even adults were chatting in church he would call them down and reprimand them for being disrespectful of God’s word. You might think his church was small for this reason, no; it was the biggest around and is still growing. People want to hear God’s Word, they hunger for it! Somewhere along the way man decided that we need to be entertained and they are just plain scared to preach the whole truth. That was the kind of sermon I heard Sunday morning from Richard Weightman. It was a blessing to hear; “How the cows ate the cabbage.”
Acts: 4: 12 …Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved.
HE IS ALWAYS THERE
By: Lillian Carol Russell
May the Lord bless us all; grant us peace today and every day.
May He guide and protect us all as we travel life's highway.
His word stands forever and His promises are true.
And though the dark clouds gather the Son will see us through.
Sometimes the road we travel may seem to be uphill
The climb will be much easier if it is not against His will.
Let us commune with Him in constant fervent prayer,
And place our trust in Him alone, for He is always there.
From His presence and His glory we can never hide,
The Holy Spirit dwells with-in our constant friend and guide.
Let us never take Him where He would not want to go,
Sometimes the things we do can grieve the Holy Spirit so.
He alone knows our every thought and every deed,
If the thought that we are thinking is a flower or a weed.
The things we do in secret are not secret from our God,
Let us be so very careful where our feet have trod.
Let us always keep Him close in thought and in prayer,
And always remember; He is always there.
“A Slice of Life”
#26
Written for the Dalhart Texan News Paper
March 12, 2007
THE PROMISE OF SPRING
By: Lillian Carol Russell
St Patrick's Day is almost here and with it comes the promise of spring. It was 1737 when America held the first St Patrick’s Day celebration in Boston. It has become a holiday celebrated throughout all the states. Everyone enjoys the wearing of the green it is a reminder that spring flowers will soon be greeting us and grass will change from the dead brown mat to a lush green carpet. We’ve enjoyed the mystic beauty of the snow but now we yearn for springtime, song birds and fragrant blossoms. Already I see the Narcissus with its intoxicating scent and delicate yellow Daffodils showing their pretty heads. Soon we will see blossoms everywhere.
I remember spring when we were children; following behind grandpa Mc as he turned the soft warm sod, it felt good to our bare feet and was the first time since winter that we were allowed to get barefoot. Remembering the smell of it brings such a sweet memory, what a heavenly scent, especially after a spring shower. He yelled gee and haw to Prince the old horse that knew the commands so well. Gee; turn left and haw; turn right. The rows were always straight as an arrow. The plowing was repeated until the rich brown Louisiana dirt was as soft as silk beneath our toes. They always let us help plant the seed. It was so exciting to watch the new green plants peeking out from the earth, a joy that is totally lost on most of today’s children.
I cherish these memories; they truly were the good old days, before television, before video games. You never heard us say: “I’m bored, there’s nothing to do.” We knew how to play and entertain ourselves. We had a grand playhouse between the wash house and smoke house. Daddy even put an old two burner wood heater out there and forbid us to put a fire in it. He put nails on the walls and hung old pots and pans there for us. We made many a mud pie and pots of mud soup. We often sneaked into the house and got flour and meal to put in the mud soup and many an egg never found its way into the house because we often raided the hen house. Sometimes we even got laundry powder from the wash house, added a little water and beat up some beautiful icing for our cakes. After adding some spring blossoms for decoration, they really did look good enough to eat. Once we broke the rule and built a fire in the wood burner and that mud soup was bubbling away when mama caught us. It was fun while it lasted. I know I had a busy guardian angel.
PSALM 46:10 Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.
BEYOND THE GLASS
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