Embrace the Possibilities

She was full of life, with a twinkle in her eye and an impish smile tugging at her lips. She was average size for a child and she loved life and thought everything was quite possibly perfect.

Each day was filled with adventure, bare feet and shirts buttoned in disarray. Since she had learned to dress herself her clothing had made their own fashion statement, yet she seemed more than pleased with her selection each morning.

She could be found at every opportunity following behind her Daddy chattering. He would turn his head occasionally nodding attentively. Many times she would stop and look up at her Daddy with eyes full of worship; was there anything he couldn’t do?

The morning brought a day of bright sunshine and cool breezes. As she wondered outside to find what the day was to bring, there was Daddy working on the brush mower. She watched quietly as he labored over the mower to get it running. When he started the big machine the sharp teeth jumped into action. She stood and watched with amazement and awe. The teeth seemed to move in a fluid motion that seemed to mesmerize her as she reached up her little finger to touch the magic.

The monster roared into life as it sliced the little finger off and tore the second finger loose. Life seemed to stand still as she heard her Daddy scream with deep intensity, yet the sound of his fear and the rushing of her Mommy from the house didn’t seem to fit the deep impact of pain and agony that seem to rush deep within her.

As Momma rushed to her she gathered her up and wrapped her little hand in the black apron that hung around her waist. The apron soon became blood soaked as they raced toward the emergency room.

The room smelled of antiseptic and rubbing alcohol as they gently laid the little girl on the table. Momma stood near by holding the little hand that was whole as the nurses and doctors quickly went to work on the other little hand with its severed fingers. As quickly as the sharp pain from the injection ripped through her hand it subsided as swiftly bringing instant relief from the torrent pain. Momma was there one moment, and then Daddy was taking her hand as the nurses led Momma away.

A shot of pain medicine, hand wrapped in bandages and the family headed home to try and find some manner of solace. Medicine was to be administered every 4 hours that would bring some comfort and deep sleep for the little girl. The doctor had warned about depression and pain because of the trauma suffered.

Instructions were given to keep her quiet and still. But minutes later when Momma turned around there she was turning summersaults on the couch. Momma’s heart skipped a beat as she rushed over to calm the child and coax her into lying still. “Sleep; there would be deep sleep after the pain medicine was given” Momma contemplated.

Night came and the little girl slept peacefully between Momma and Daddy. Exhausted sleep finally came to them too. Sometime deep in the night both parents were startled awake to “I want milk and graham crackies.”

Years have passed and this child has grown into a loving, God-fearing woman. Time and time again she has risen above the odds that life has thrown at her. Instead of letting the missing finger set the tempo for her life, she has scaled new heights and embraced each ordeal with renewed strength.


Philippians 3:13-14 “Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

For Momma

She was sent, not to take the place of the little girl whose tragic death had struck the family, but to help ease the pain that the family felt since the death. Jo came to the family in the usual way babies were born into all families. She was tiny, soft and pink. When you touched her hand, her little fingers grasped yours and held on tight. The family gathered round in wonder and watch the tiny miracle that helped to heal their hearts.

As Jo grew up on the farm with her Mama and Papa she was happy, content and basked in the love and affection the other family members gave. Eleven years plus separated her from her brothers and sisters in age. Most were grown and married, raising their own families.

She looked on her older brothers and sisters with love, adoration and great respect. They loved, protected and cherished her. She spent her days following behind Mama as she gathered the eggs, churned the butter, and other numerous farm tasks; chattering with each step.

Mama made her the most beautiful dresses from flour sacks. She would don her new dress, parade around the house and eventually end up on the top of the quilt box where she sang and danced for hours.

When Papa came in from the fields he would pitch in to help Mama finish her chores so they could enjoy the evening together. Jo never witnessed an unkind word spoken between Mama and Papa and grew up assuming everyone spoke with soft gentle speech.

The family cradled and protected Jo, but life has a way of reaching in when least expected, to make you hurt and break your heart. When Jo was 12 Mama died unexpectedly, filling Jo’s heart with hurt, pain and the awareness that her happy little world would never be the same. Nothing eased the pain, only time seemed to lessen it.

When Jo was 20 she married Ross. He was impulsive, humorous, and his eyes held a special twinkle. They laughed together, shared together and loved together. Two little girls were born to them, two year apart, Melinda and Monalea. Six years later a son, Trey was a welcome addition to their family.

Ross was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s disease. Three years were spent in treatments, surgeries, specialist and promises. These years were spent in fear, hope and then more fear; yet life marched on unaware of the pain. Once again Jo felt the hurt, pain and emptiness brought on by loss, but this time she was responsible for 3 small children; three small children that continually reached out for comfort, stability and with questions. That same year Jo lost a much treasured sister, Katy and her dear sweet Papa.

Three years past and Jo held the small broken family together with courage, strength and love for God. Time once again lessened the pain and loneliness of loss.

In time Jo fell in love with Lawrence. And along with Lawrence came 3 beautiful girls Cindy, Stephanie, Melinda and precious boy, Bruce. Jo found herself the mother of 7, ages ranging from 4 to 14.

There were mouths to feed, laundry to wash, chores to be done, budgets to be kept and love to give. Quickly Jo learned that God made a heart so that the love inside never ran out. In truth, the more love you gave, the more love your heart produced.

Time has a way of trudging on. Where did the child go that danced on the quilt box? Where did the girl go that laughed and took great pleasure in school chums? Where did the young mother go full of hopes and dreams? And who was the stranger that now gazed back at her in the mirror?

Mom and Dad’s home is quite now, all the children are grown and have families of their own. If you listen closely you can hear laughter in the hall, children’s voices in the yard and the sound of games being played at the big dining table.

As I search the memories on my heart I see that Mom provided us with a home filled with:

Stability
Love
Courage
Strength
Laugher
Wisdom
Persistence
Determination
Fairness
Inspiration
A Constant
And the most important – The love for God!

Proverbs 31:28 "Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her"

Stan Simmons

I would like to introduce my cousin Stan to you. He is one of my favorite people, uplifting and encouraging. When I read the story of Joseph in the Old Testament I see a lot of similarities between the two men. Genesis chapters 30 - 50

Funny, as a kid growing up he was a lot older than me. Now that I’m older, we are about the same age. As a kid I admired his cool horse Gipsy, his good looking friends who hung out at his house, awesome Archie comic books and I loved his Mom and Dad, Uncle Bob and Aunt Freda. No one could cook like Aunt Freda and she always kept Hershey syrup for my milk. That alone made her #1 in my book.

Life has punched Stan in the guts many times, but he still keeps his positive outlook, his charm and wit. In 2006 Stan wrote his first book “By Path of Night.” When I started reading the book I couldn’t lay it down. The end of each chapter left you hanging so that you just had to read the next.

“By Path of Night” is full of mystery, drama, love, violence, evil and warmth. Several friends who read it commented on how clean it was for a book write in this day and time. Amazon gives “By Path of Night” a 5 star rating; I give “By Path of Night” a 10 star rating.