"The Screwtape Letters"

"The Screwtape Letters", by C.S. Lewis, is without a doubt one of my favorite reads.  It is a brilliantly written epistolary novel.  The letters are penned by the demonic overseer Screwtape to his protege Wormwood.  Wormwood's task is to corrupt the soul of "the patient", thereby preventing him from becoming a true Christian.  C.S. Lewis is an extremely effective evangelist.  The brilliant way he clarifies the weakness of the human body and the strength faith imparts on it is amazing.  It is a true page turner. It is written as letters intended to help the apprentice tempter, Wormwood, interfere with "the patient's" pending salvation by exploiting the weakness of the human mind, body, and spirit in various situations.  The magical part about this book is that one may find themselves described in great detail in several of the situations.  It really highlights areas of spiritual weakness that many may overlook.  And in true form C.S. Lewis speaks to readers on a level below (or above) the intellectual.  One may find themselves thinking more about how they respond to others and how they perceive the world around them in many ways after reading this novel.
Here is an excerpt from one of the letters regarding "the patient's" relationship with his mother:
       
 "4.  In civilised life domestic hatred usually expresses itself by saying things which would appear quite harmless on paper (the words are not offensive) but in such a voice, or at such a moment, that they are not far short of a blow in the face."

If you want a great read this book is sure to please!

Best Gift of 2011

I am a fortunate woman.  I have a wonderful family that blesses me beyond belief.  This year I received many gifts.  My loving husband gave me cash to shop with.  He says that he can never find what I want.  He's wise!  My son Samuel bought me an extra large Hershey Kiss.  Also a smart one as I love chocolate!  My baby, Gabe, bought me a sand sifting decoration that he paid eight dollars for.  He told me this.  He wanted to make sure I knew he spent more on my gift than any one else's.  For an eight year old this is one of the highest compliments he can give.  I love that mouthy little guy.  But the best gift by far came from my mother.  It is being added to the list of my favorites.  She crocheted gifts for every one.  Personalized to match the personality of the individual.  Mine is a lovely hat, gloves, and scarf.  Each adorned with hand crocheted flowers in the colors of the spectrum.  She really did a great job.  I love it.  And I love my mother for knowing me so well.  I am flattered that she would think of flowers when making a gift for me.  Thanks Mom.

Pam Todd and Traci Hale, Christmas 2011

Jack Leasure

I received an email that was forwarded to me from my Dad.  I opened it not knowing what it was. Because I don't get many forwards from my Dad I figured it was a good joke.  It turned out to be a blog post written by the Pastor of Friendship Baptist Church about my Grandpa Jack.  As I read the post I could see my Grandpa's face.  He had white hair that looked like it belonged on a movie star from the 40's, always styled neatly.  He had eyes as blue as the spring sky that spoke kindness and wisdom with just a look.  He was tall but I wouldn't have called him a big man.  He had big nose but it suited him well.  His mouth was not too full or too thin but was usually smiling unless he was talking serious, but he was not serious too often.  He wore slacks with a button up shirt that always had a pocket or two.  He never had fancy shoes and he wore a pair until they needed replacing.
He made things.  He made wooden toy kits for the children to assemble at Vacation Bible School.  He checked the church busses every Saturday to be sure they were safe for the Sunday run and made repairs on them when needed.
He helped his family, neighbors, and the occasional stranger with what ever was needed.  He never bragged unless it was about one of his children or grandchildren.
Once when I was very little (I was the youngest grandchild) he drove all the way from his vacation home at Ft. Walton beach to Grand bay just so I could spend the day with my cousins playing there.  He had to drive me back home that same evening.  He once took me snorkeling in Gulf Shores for the day, just the two of us.  He took time to listen, even when I was little.  He would let me wash his car when I was too small to reach the roof of it.  And he'd pay me three dollars.  He had a coin purse in his pocket he'd pull out as soon as the ice cream truck could be heard.  My brother and I would line up for coins he'd hand out with a smile.
Being the youngest grandchild meant he was retired when I was in grade school.  If I was sick, he'd pick me up and bring me to his house where my Grandma Chris would insist I lay on the couch and rest.  If she caught me playing I would get accused of playing "hookey" (usually I was).  My Dad's house was on the far side of his property so I saw him daily.  Once my brother talked me into skipping school when I was in second grade.  Grandpa caught us and I felt a shame seldom matched since. Grandpa Jack was so good.  He was the kind of good that made you want to be good too.  He was never idle.  He had four acres of pecan trees that he tended.  Each fall we'd pick pecans.  He always had a nut cracker on his picnic table and we'd crack and eat pecans year round.
Grandpa Jack had a sweet tooth too.  He baked a cake at least once a week and always had vanilla ice cream.  The kitchen at his house smelled like oreo cookies, coffee, and newspaper.  I recreate that scent sometimes just to think of him.
He taught me so much.  He scolded me once for crying.  That was the only time he ever did.  He said I was an angel even when I was a rebellious teen.  I would say that I loved him but I must say that I love him.  I love him now even though he isn't here any more.  He lives in my memories and in my heart.  He is there now.  My love for him is there.  His love for me is there too.  He was patient, wise, kind, and funny.  He always had a story about "when he was a little girl.."  He read the funny pages every day and if you stopped by he'd show them to you.  He loved Snoopy and Calvin and Hobbes.  I can still hear him say: "What's old Snoop up to today?" as he rattled the paper.  He was one of a kind and I will always remember him with tears and a smile.

Pastor's blog post