Author: Tammy L. Mashburn

Waiting

“The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.” Lamentations 3:26ESV   I stand in the warm sunshine scanning the horizon, as far as my eyes can see. Soaking in the warmth. Waiting. Hoping. And, yes praying. Last week when the idea of writing a post on waiting began to form in my mind, I had no idea that just a mere few days later we would find ourselves waiting. Due to family allergies, our “grand~cat” Chloe lives with us. This furry feline belongs to our precious woman-child granddaughter. Chloe is cherished. Loved by us all. She is full of personality and quirkiness. Chloe brings exuberant joy into our home and to our sweethearts, big and small. They love to give her treats and lavish her with love. Sometimes the occasional tail pulling.  Chloe went missing Sunday night. We haven’t figured out how it happened. We are diligent when it comes to making sure she has not made a mad dash for the door. I delivered the news, that struck her sweet human like a blow. Most of the day was spent searching. Walking, calling out her name. Wondering. Waiting. The hard question asked. What if? The hard thing said. “It’s the not knowing that makes it hard.” Tough questions for young ones to process. So much worrying for tender hearts. My heart...

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Grace and Forgiveness in Muddy Messes

“I lie in the dust; revive me with your word.” Psalms 119:25NLT   Twenty some years ago my sweet man and I found our old truck wedged between trees, on the side of a hill. Sliding sideways down that muddy hill, we were stuck the furtherest point from where we had started. It was one of those cold, dreary days in the mountains. The kind that chill you right through to the bone and leave you with a drippy nose, red ears, and numb fingers. How we got there and how we got out has become somewhat of an infamous tale weaved into the threads of our twenty-seven plus years of marriage. We had planned to spend our day cutting wood for our fireplace. My man wields the chainsaw and I throw wood on the back of the truck. We laugh, we get silly, and usually have a blast. Not so much on this day. There had been a small disagreement the day before. And I’m a woman that holds a grudge. Won’t let it go until I’ve chewed it through. And through. And through some more. Tension was heavy in the air as we headed out the door together. Pulling the old truck just a ways in the woods at the top of the hill on our property, we got out, slammed doors and set out about the business...

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Peeling Off The Labels~Lent

 It’s snowing again! Three words we don’t hear very often in the south. The dog and cat are snoring softly in the background. I’m snuggly and warm in the birthday present from my best friend. Cocooned in the silence of the snowfall. It’s the silence that causes one to be contemplative. And I am. Lent began last week. It came up on me so fast I wasn’t prepared. Hadn’t given a thought as to what I might sacrifice or give up. Maybe it was all the snow and talk of ice and more snow to come. Or, maybe, I already had an inkling of what God was slowly moving me towards. Of what He would ask of me during this season. He’s already been laying a trail for me. Trust in the hard, Tammy. Have faith in the unanswered. Hang on to Me in the silence. Find Me in the circumstances. Relinquish control. I discuss it with my sweet man, who every year says to me, “But we’re Baptists, Baptists do not practice lent.” I read him a quote from Ann Voskamp’s blog…“Okay…Lent. It’s the preparing the heart for Easter. Like going with Jesus into the wilderness for forty days, that we might become more like Christ in His sacrifice.” http://www.aholyexperience.com/2015/02/why-failing-at-lent-may-be-succeeding-at-lent/ I’ve had six days now to turn this over and over in my heart. Six days to pray. Six...

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Treasures and Memories

“But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to remembrance all that I have said to you.” John 14:26 ESV Some years back I fell in love with Mem Fox’s Wilfrid Gordon McDonald Partridge. A delightful book for children, beautifully illustrated, and very engaging. It was and will always be my very favorite read aloud. However, it did not escape me the book is a tender picture of caring, giving, and grace. You see, Wilfrid grew up living next to an old people’s home. He knew all the people that lived there. Loved them all. But his favorite person was Miss Nancy Alison Delacourt. He called her Miss Nancy and told her all of his secrets. It came to Wilfrid’s attention one day that Miss Nancy had lost her memory. Through out the story Wilfrid goes to see his “old” friends to ask a very important question…”What’s a memory?” He is given many beautiful answers and begins to thoughtfully put a basket together to take with him on his next visit with Miss Nancy. At first she seems confused with Wilfrid’s gift, but as she picks up each treasure and tenderly holds it in her hands she begins to smile. And remember. “She bounced the football to Wilfrid Gordon and remembered the day she had...

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Home: Past, Present, and Future

“But it was hard for me to shake the feeling that home~my real home~was one state to the west, where the drawl is just the tiniest bit more pronounced and magnolia trees line the interstates, swaying like sweet old ladies who open their screen doors and beckon you to come on in.” Home is Where My People Are: The Roads That Lead Us to Where We Belong~Sophie Hudson I’m sitting here this morning staring at the curser and a blank page. Why? The latest book I’m reading has gotten me tongue tied and buried under a mountain of memories. Thirty pages in and I knew I had found an old friend. And it has struck me right at the heart of all I had been dwelling on lately. It’s that time of year when Old Man Winter is leaving his bite everywhere. A few stray snowflakes danced around my face this morning as I walked the dog. On a day where most of the country is grumbling about snow~magedan and all of its inconveniences, I counted my few flakes as a gift. Home is Where My People Are by Sophie Hudson is packed with priceless nuggets such as this: “Jesus. It had been Him all along. Only He could take a building filled with folding chairs and an old Coke machine and turn it into a spiritual home. And...

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