'Find Your Strength In Love'

Man I loved this woman. Not so much in recent years but as a kid, I thought she was IT. My first ever tape that I owned and purchased all by myself was 'The Greatest Love of All' and I cherished that thing like it was pure gold. I remember when I was in 2nd grade a friend of mine had a 'lip sync' birthday party and we all had to come with an act prepared. Most of my friends performed songs by Debbi Gibson and Tiffany. Not me. I performed 'The Greatest Love of All.'I channelled my inner Whitney big time for that one. 

Anyway, what a loss. What a tragedy. Rest in peace, Whitney. 

We had Christmas (??!?!?!??)

Yesterday I had a drink from Starbucks out of one their wonderfully thought out Valentine's cups. Finally they got a clue: bestowing on us the red cups at Christmastime is all well and good but they needed a plan for the post-Christmas, post red cup season. Valentines cups. PERFECT. Anyway, my coffee yesterday reminded me that we had Christmas this year. I've been so busy since I came back to Jacksonville that I literally just yesterday realized that I had pictures and videos from Christmas that I had not even uploaded onto my computer. So, here's a little pictorial and cinematic journey through the Bailey family Christmas...

some families say Grace, some families sing a blessing, we sing 'the Hamburg Zoo'...

The tree lot just up the street decided to shut down several days before Christmas - so naturally, we assumed that the trees were for the taking (right?). Mom and I had the brilliant idea to steal take a tree (marked down from $120 to the low, low price of...FREE) and set it up in our front yard and let the kids decorate it with silly string, fake snow and any tacky Christmas decoration that was still on the picked over shelves at K-Mart. 

Clark Griswold, eat your heart out.... 

On Christmas Eve we rode the train at the Towne Center...

Christmas Eve party at the Jimmy Bailey Jr's circus house...

Christmas morning...

my under $20 table decorations (taken with my new lens that Santa brought)

this is version 2 of the table decorations...John Swinton rubbed too many sweet potatoes in the tablecloth to leave it on the table...

never ever in the history of ever have I seen a child so excited about dinner...

JSTB loves Aunt Lizzy's sweet potatoes...

and after dinner, Betsy wow-ed us with her hula hooping skills...

I gave my brothers family a Wii for Christmas, which was a bit of a gamble but I think it turned out to be a hit. A couple days after Christmas, Betsy showed GG how to play Mario Cart and Just Dance...

There's such a tendency at Christmas to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season - this year, I am happy to report that for the most part, we managed to avoid the whirlwind and just enjoy each other. The time together is never long enough but the memories remain. Being away from 'home' and family is hard but it makes our time together feel more intentional, more special - there's a sense in all of us to make the most of the time we've got. 

And now I've realized that there's a whole bunch of pre-Christmas pictures and stories on my computer worth sharing and telling. Watch this space...

Out of the blue...

I arrived home last night after a lovely couple of days away to a piece of mail from my dad. I was expecting something from him so it did not surprise me but what did surprise me was the that the thickness of the envelope did not match what I was expecting. I squeezed it, wondering if he had done that thing that dads do and included a wad of cash. I opened it and found not a wad of cash but something much more valuable: a small book with a note from my dad that said:

'this little book belonged to my mother - I suspect she got it from her father who had the same kind, sweet disposition she had. I think of her when I hold it - since her death - I think she would like for you to have it'

In an instant, I was flooded with emotion as I held this little thing that, by its used and tattered state, was obviously held and cherished often by my precious Mama, my grandmother. She was a quiet and kind woman; when she is talked about among friends and family, the common word that is used to describe her is sweet. And that is what she was: sweet. (as sugar). She dedicated her life to raising and loving her 5 boys and then countless grandchildren. (and when I say countless, I mean it. It's not that I'm too lazy to count them, I really don't know how many of us there are! It seems as though every time there's a family reunion a cousin I never knew existed is suddenly in the mix). Mama's time with us here on earth ended abruptly, unexpectedly, and quite dramatically. In the late afternoon of May the 10th, 2001, Mama lost her husband of nearly 65 years. The very next morning, May the 11th, the grief that gripped Mama's giant of a heart proved to be too much and she decided to leave us too. It was a 24 hours that will live vividly in all of our memories forever...but the legacy of a life well lived will live even stronger.
So, back to the book. Although on the surface, Mama seemed to be a simple woman, there was an immeasurable depth of character about her. There was an innate ability within her to love, to nurture and to quietly encourage all those who were around her. Her eyes and her smile were the kind that pierced straight through all things superficial and melted your heart. I do not have any concrete memories of Mama teaching me about Jesus or reading the Bible to me - but I remember that Bibles were everywhere, always open and she was always humming a familiar hymn. Looking back now, I realize that Mama lived her life as one whose heart was yielded to Jesus. As I try now to walk out my calling, I look back and realize what a firm foundation she laid out for me. She did it, however, with such a quiet grace, such humility, that it has taken me this long to realize it. It all came together for me last night as I held this tiny treasure in my hands...

I remember the day that we cleaned out Mama and Papa's apartment after they died. I found a note in Mama's handwriting that said 'live each day in a way that you would want to be remembered.' In our haste to clean and vacate their apartment for the next tenants, we threw away and got rid of many things that I wish we had kept. I don't have anything of Mama's. All I have are memories. Until now. This little book, all tattered and used and worn is quite possibly the greatest gifts I have ever received. It is Mama. In all of it's smallness and meekness, it is power-packed with the very truths that Mama stood on:

This is quite a treasure. I want to thank my dad for passing this on to me - for letting go of something that is clearly precious to him and sharing it with me. I feel as though he is right - that Mama would want me to have this. This little book will never be too far from me. 

I love you, Mama. Thank you for the gift of love that you deposited in all of us. Thank you for instilling something in me that has shaped me in ways I'll probably never fully grasp. 

Rebecca of the Bible was known as a Matriarch - her very name in Hebrew means 'connection' and is derived from the Semitic root meaning 'to tie, couple, join, or secure' - Rebecca Bailey, my Mama, lived out the meaning of her name. And even now, in death, she continues to do so. 

'It's the MOST wonderful time of the year!'

The red cups are here! The red cups are here! It was a knowing I had deep down in my knower - two days ago, suddenly and without any notice, the most glorious thought popped into my head: 'I bet the red cups will be making their appearance at Starbucks soon.' There were murmurs confirming this revelation from on high but I had yet to experience it for myself. Until now. At approximately 1:38pm on Sunday, October 30th, 2011, I walked into my neighborhood Starbucks and there they were......

...standing tall and proud, towering over all the baristas and myself, beckoning me, calling me closer, inviting me to fill them with frothy milk and pumpkin spice. 

This truly is one of my favorite days of the entire year. I'm not quite sure what it is. I mean, I'm sure there are some superficial reasons attached to my adoration of the red cups...like gingerbread lattes and twinkle lights and permission to watch Home Alone everyday and letters to the North Pole and visions of sugar plums dancing in my head...but for me, I feel as though it is representative of something much more. Much bigger. Much deeper. 

Growing up in a liturgical church, one thing I have really appreciated has been the observance of the 'seasons of the church' that help guide us through periods of time leading up to significant moments in history, particularly in relation to the life of Jesus. I believe in observing the Liturgical calendar because it so often helps posture me for what's coming. Advent has always been my favorite season in the church - and I always find myself ready to celebrate it before the church says it is time to. Advent is widely known as a season when we sing about silent nights and snowmen and boughs of holly...but why? It is also known in most churches as a season of expectation and preparation...but for what? The word 'advent' derives from the Latin word 'adventus' which means 'coming.' And 'adventus' was translated from the Greek word 'parousia' which was commonly used in reference to the second coming of the Christ. So, while much of the focus of Advent is on a manger, a star, a baby in swaddling cloths, and nasty chocolates that we pull out of cardboard calendars, the excitement that builds in me is the reality of the destiny of that little babe, the Christ child. He would lead a perfect life, die for you and me, come back for you and me and reconcile us to the Father. And He will also come again...and He will come in GLORY for me and for you - His bride. 'He's not like any other man' is what we've been singing a lot at the place where I worship...and it's true...there's no one else like Him. I keep getting glimpses of Him that usher in even more truth to this reality. 

So - all of that just from the arrival of the red cups. But I encourage you to go to Starbucks, order a triple grande, non-fat, no whip pumpkin spice latte, go sit under a tree and ponder on the truth of the promises we live under when we are in Christ Jesus - and see what it does to your heart. 

O Come, O Come, EMMANUEL. 

Now for something a little lighter...

One of the most significant and influential moments of my life was the day that I realized that this existed:

THE BANANA PUDDING MILKSHAKE.

Thank you, Chick-Fil-A for changing my life forever. This is perfection in a styrofoam cup with a cherry on top. I treated myself to my very first but not last BPMS this past Friday night. I had had a long and stressful week - my only plans for the evening were to hole up in my apartment, watch movies in my pj's and sleep. At around 7:30pm, I got a hankerin' for something sweet. That's when I remembered that I had seen an ad for this delectable dessert from heaven. I drove straight to Chick-Fil-A in my owl pajamas to get in on the goodness. In my naiveté, I ordered a small. Never again will I make such an error. As I began to sip inhale the shake, I immediately began to get sad about how quickly this moment in time would be over. But I took comfort in the fact that I would be back, and I would be back soon. Ever since that pivotal moment in history, I have been thinking about how I can thank the genius who came up with the BPMS idea and brought it to reality. Thank you notes, Nobel Prize nominations, big slobbery kisses, a million high-fives have all been on list. But until these things happen...

Dear Genius Banana Pudding Milkshake Maker, 

I love you. You are my best friend. Forever. I will never forget what you have done for me.

All my love,

Liz 

on dying...

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I've been thinking about death recently - not in a paint my fingernails black and read a lot of Sylvia Plath  kind of way - but in a way that has really led to a lot of thinking about my own perspective of death. I think that it is our natural human tendency to be afraid of it, to dread the day that it comes to you or those whom you love. And to some extent, this is ok and normal...but if our 'citizenship is of heaven' and if we are in Christ Jesus, we need not fear death.
It is our experiences, however, that influence our perceptions of death. For me, I lost all four of my grandparents fairly young and literally watched all of them die in one way or another. My grandparents on my mom's side both fought cancer for years, only to have it take their lives after much suffering and pain. My grandparents on my father's side died within 24 hours of each other when I was 22 years old. My grandmother died in front of me as my mom and I performed CPR on her. I have had numerous friends die in car accidents, several commit suicide and one in high school die after a 7 year fight with leukemia. Death has always frightened me - and with good reason. From my perspective, it's ugly - it robs people of life and robs us of relationship with them. However, I feel my thoughts towards death changing. I still don't like it - but I am allowing God to heal the things that have influenced how I view death. He's teaching me a lot, too. It's not necessarily something new - it's just sinking in because of how He is touching the places in me that need to be healed.
I guess I should back up and explain why the subject of death has been on my mind. (for those of you who are about to send in the men in white coats...) Death took three people in the last few months who were very dear to me:

HAZEL PARKER:

Hazel is to blame for my competitive nature...well, I can't give her total credit because I think it is genetic...but Hazel was the one who first got me to love competition. I was six - and my mom dragged me, kicking and screaming, away from my Barbies - to try out for the track team at Hazel Parker Playground. Hazel had raised my mom and my mom was ready for Hazel's influence in my life. After much protesting, I gave in and lined up for the 50 yard dash. When the whistle blew, I took off and left everyone in my dust. As I approached Hazel and her clipboard, she was smiling, her eyes were twinkling and she said, "I know who you are. You are Gail's daughter." Something about those words comforted me and at that moment, I knew that I belonged with Hazel. I spent every afternoon after school of the next I-don't-know-how-many-years at the playground with Hazel. Whether we were sipping cold coca-colas or whipping up on other playgrounds in kickball, basketball, tball, etc...we were with Hazel. She was always teaching us, always loving us. Hazel taught us how to win and how to love doing so. But she also taught us the lessons in losing and how to do so graciously. Bad manners and bad attitudes were not welcome in Hazel's presence - if you were dumb enough to mouth off or have a bad attitude around Hazel, you were only dumb enough once. Her correction and discipline was swift and fierce - but equal to that (plus more) was her love for us. And we loved her in return. Hazel died Saturday, February 19th at 88 and 364 days. Read her obituary here. Her life was a picture of service and love. I cannot adequately express what having her in my life meant to me, nor can I begin to imagine what life would have been like without her.

EVANS TOWNSEND
aka 'uncle EV'
(translation: 'uncle Ibb)

Evans Townsend was a legend. Really. If you've lived in the Charleston area for more than 20 year, you'd recognize him as the guy in the old Oldsmobile commercials with the thick gullah accent saying '88-88??' To me, he was just my Uncle Ev - the funniest guy I ever knew (other than his brother, my grandfather). When I was little, I was afraid of him because I couldn't understand him - his accent was so thick. But as I grew up, nothing gave me more pleasure than to just sit and listen to him talk. He had the best stories - and such wisdom. He loved to tell me 'Ah-lizabet, tuhday is yo day. whun ya wake up in da mornin and put ya feet on da flo you gotta say to yuhself "dis is muh day. ain't yo's. ain't his. ain't hers. it's muh day. an den ya get up go get dat day.'
If I had a nickel for every time he told me this, I'd be a rich woman...but it never got old.
On the morning of April 5th, the world lost one of the most interesting, entertaining men. Our times around the fire at Rockville will never be the same. The bourbon companies have lost one of their most faithful customers. Uncle Ev made our lives rich - I am forever grateful that he was a part of mine.

BRADLEY COKER:                          
Never in my life have I met someone else like Bradley Coker. To say that this world lost a remarkable human being would be a ridiculous understatement. Bradley was one of those unique individuals who could love you, challenge you, encourage you, etc...just by looking into your eyes. He carried with him the presence of Jesus. I never had an encounter with Bradley that I wasn't grateful for. Even now, words fail me as I try to articulate what he meant to me and to this world.
Bradley's death was sudden - and in all of our minds, too soon. He was 34 years old. One moment he was playing basketball and the next his heart had stopped and he was gone. I will never forget the moment that I learned of his death - it was about 10pm and I was lying in bed, trying to recover from a horrible case of strep throat and tonsillitis. My friend texted me 'Bradley Coker just died.' It was one of those moments where nothing makes sense. What? How? WHY? WHY? How on earth could it be his time to go? He had so much in front of him - so much he was living for. I really didn't understand. My initial reaction was to be angry...to tell God that He got it wrong on this one. Bradley was not supposed to die. What about his wife? What about his family? What about all the things that You had called him to?This was the moment that He decided to teach me a thing or two...

But death is not final. As Jesus said to Mary and Martha at the tomb of Lazarus,

 'I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?'    

I have realized that God is asking me this same question: do you believe this? I think that my answer has been that I believe it in my head but I do not have a heart understanding of it and thus, my perception of death has not been accurate. I believe that God has been showing me that death, viewed through the lens of eternity, is quite remarkable. Beautiful even. Because if Jesus IS the resurrection and the life, that means that He conquered death. That means that He rescues us from death. That means that when death comes to get us, Jesus is right there, meeting it head on and cutting it off at the pass. And what that means is that heaven is present in that moment. I think back to that moment with my grandmother as she lay dying on the floor: heaven was there. Jesus was there in that room with us in the midst of our anguish, leading my precious Mama into the loving arms of her Creator...into LIFE ETERNAL.
And the good news is that He does that for all of us...
As I have said goodbye in my heart to Hazel, Uncle Ev, and Bradley, I do so with a new perspective on that which took them from this life. I do so with a confidence in Him who took them from death.

                                                                                         

John Swinton Townsend Bailey

What a precious little angel nugget! Just as I expected, God gave me a new love tank for this little bundle of wonderful. John Swinton was born around 8am on Friday, March 11th ...and all over again, my heart melted. With all the excitement, speculation, and discussion swirling around about the arrival of 'baby c' John Swinton slipped into this world in typical 3rd child fashion...with ease and little fuss. I think somehow he had an in-utero knowing that he better be ready for the madness: lots of carpool lines, a whole bunch of here and there and everywhere, and a big but not so much older crazy brother.

Welcome to the family, John Swinton. 

Your Aunt Lizzy loves you very much!