Grams Writes

What’s going on in my world? My first response is . . . oh, nothing much. But that’s really not true. A lot has happened and is happening.

My mother passed away in February and I’ve been amazed at how much I’ve missed her, although the person she had been, that I grew up knowing, had long since departed. Still I find myself wishing I could tell her something I thought of today or tell her something the grandkids did that would make her smile. But, I would not bring her back to this world for anything. She is completely at rest; no more pain or suffering. I think of her with daddy, her mom and dad, other family members who’ve made the trip ahead of her and almost envy her. She will get to see my firstborn, my son Billy who died when he was a year old. I look forward to seeing him again.

My youngest son and his wife are leading a group of teenagers on a mission trip to Uruguay for 2 weeks in June. Ellie, my granddaughter, will stay in Nashville with friends while they are gone. I’ll be able to spend some time with her and that is always a joy.

Oh, and I think there is a family reunion planned for the end of the summer.

I would like to spend some time with Will and Neil, but that will have to be worked out. Maybe it will.

And then there is always work; friends; church, and then more work. All in all I’d say that there’s a lot going on in my world. That should make mother happy for she always said idleness bred discontent. I’m very content.

Grams

Woodbine FWB Church is now Cane Ridge FWB Church. The building we once met in is now the property of a Spanish FWB church. Cane Ridge FWB Church meets each Sunday in the cafeteria and gymnasium at A.Z. Kelly Elementary School. Each Sunday morning the set-up team meets an hour or so before services and sets up the chairs, mics, keyboards, etc. to enable us to meet for worship. The different Sunday School classes gather in groups in corners, behind the drapes on stage, or anywhere that is possible. Sometimes a group will have a loud outburst but usually there is just a quiet hum as the groups discuss the day’s lesson within their own group.

The same thing takes place for the evening services with one difference. After that service is over, everything has to be dismantled, stacked together, and carried out to vans, trunks, and trailers to be stored so we can meet in seven more days and do it all over again.

Is it tiring? Of course it is. Can it be exasperating? Absolutely, if you let it. Do people’s tempers get short? They could, but I’ve not heard that yet. You see, Cane Ridge folks are on a mission; they have set a course toward a goal and have no plans of looking back with regrets, backing up, or sitting down.

Sunday, April 5, 2009, Cane Ridge FWB Church will break ground on the property where we will build the first building of the new Cane Ridge FWB Church! What an exciting time that will be. Scores of us will ride by the property as the building begins to take place just to see how much progress has been made. As the the building takes shape the excitement will mount until one day we drive by and it is almost complete. Just a few more finishing touches and then we can move in. On that day, the glory of the Lord will fall and just as the Children of Israel stepped up the bank of the Jordan River to take possession of Canaan, Cane Ridge Church will take possession of the land and building God has given us with the task of conquering new territory for Him.

Are we up to the challenge? We’d better be. God does not do things halfway and He doesn’t expect His children, His warriors, to fall victim to that attitude either. So, we march on; we work; we give; we pray; we encourage; we remain faithful and the God of heaven and earth has promised never to leave us. He will finish the work He has begun.

Come see what God is doing at, and with, Cane Ridge FWB Church!

Grams

My previous blog espoused the theory that organization was the key to productivity and also a promise that I would resume my daily/weekly blog. I checked the dates and as of today it has been 6 weeks since I posted anything at all. So, what happened?

Now I must come up with all kinds of excuses to justify my failure to organize and keep my word. Of course there were the holidays. I spent 2 weeks with my boys and their families. That was a great time. It was a very special time as well. The grandkids are growing up and each trip is an adventure; new things to learn about them, stories about their latest escapades, and lots of hugs, laughter, and fun. Then of course there was the dreaded “crud.” I am beginning my 6th week and the fifth round of antibiotics. Yep, you heard right. So, I guess that explains what happened.

Even though the last few weeks have been kind of tough, physically, the time spent with family and friends made the trip a lot easier and enjoyable. God is a good God. He provides what we need when we need it, even in the midst of the hard times. Just like He did those many years ago in Bethlehem. God provided what we needed in the hard times. Thank you, Lord.

Grams

The highway ran right down the middle of the pecan grove, straight as an arrow with only an occasional hill. If there were ever a road that invited drag racing, this was it. And the invitation was accepted just about every weekend. However, there was one hitch. It was a public roadway, other vehicles traveled that road, and it was frequently patrolled. But, those factors would never deter a bunch of south Georgia boys.

On this particular night, a sizable number of Tift County high school boys were at the pecan grove, or it seemed that way. Cars, but mostly trucks, were pulled onto the side of the road so their head lights could light up the “drag strip.” Now, every race needed someone to start the race, so that was Brian’s job. Good move on his part.

The cars were lined up, with motors racing, and Brian standing between them. When he dropped his arms, the race would officially begin. Suddenly, without warning, kids began running to their vehicles and tearing out of there. The two racers backed around and headed toward home. Brian had not heard the sirens, but by the time the sheriff’s car lights topped the hill he’d figured it out. But there was no place to run. There he stood in the spotlight.

Brian walked to his truck and waited for the sheriff. The sheriff asked the usual questions and then asked, “Son, you been racing?” “No, sir, I haven’t.”  The sheriff gave him a knowing look and said, “Go on; get out of here and don’t let me catch you out here again.”

I learned of this several years later, long after he was too old and too big for me to discipline.  Did he heed the sheriff’s advice? I really don’t know, but I doubt the sheriff’s visit completely stopped the weekend drag races. I bet they’re still going on.

Grams

When I first started working for Randall House, other than trying to get a production schedule in place that would work more efficiently, nothing much changed. We were just trying to maintain the status quo. Now, that was twelve years ago, or close to that. I look back on those days and then take stock of where we are today, and I shake my head almost in unbelief.

What was once a couple of in-house editors, a typesetter, and one graphic designer has grown to include an editorial director, a managing editor, 2 senior editors, 3 associate editors, 1 editorial assistant, and 1 editorial intern. Then across the hall, the graphic design department sports a design manager, 3 designers, 1 typesetter, and a design intern. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention our book acquisitions editor who heads up our book division. Obviously, the number of products has increased as well.

In the world of publishing, the staff I just referred to is quite small. Even with all the increase we have had, we have room to substantially increase product and thereby personnel. When someone says, the sky’s the limit, I sometimes wonder if that person really understands what he has alluded to. But that sentiment definitely holds true for Randall House today. With all that has been, considering where we began and where we’re going, those of us who are looking from the inside out know that today we can say, “The sky’s the limit.”

In the spring quarter of 2009 Fusion will replace CLEAR Living as the new adult devotional magazine. After many hours of researching, talking, thinking, and praying for God’s guidance, we believe this product will more closely meet the needs of today’s adults facing life in our anti-Christian culture. The aim is once again to help families connect together around the Word of God. Fusion is a positive step in that direction.

More new products and product lines are coming in 2009. The fall quarter will see the first issue of The Brink, a young adult curriculum line designed to target young adults age 18-30. The content remains biblical, but the approach to application will cause those in this age group to look at how that biblical content impacts where they live. It will be different, but it will also be a mighty tool to reach one of the most neglected groups of adults in our culture. We are all very excited. What else is coming remains to be seen, but I’d keep my eyes open and my ears peeled if I were you.

This incredible journey I’ve been on for the past 12 years has really been a joy in my life. Has it all been easy? Well, no! But, things that come easy usually do not last nor do they have the eternal impact struggles do. It has been, and is, a trip worth taking.

Grams

The time we lived at the mission house was not so bad. The house was on the campus of the school and there was a little church that had services every once in a while. It was on a dirt road off Highway 82 east of Tifton, past Alapaha, Georgia. Now, I’m talking about down south, almost to the Okefenokee Swamp.

There are a lot of things to recommend south Georgia. One is its climate, very mild for the most part except in the summer. Then it is extremely hot and humid. Because of the climate, planting season came early and stayed late–two crops a year. As you’d imagine, this was a highly agricultural area, kind of laid-back, quiet, and gentle.

One thing that was important to the boys was the fishing and hunting. That was their past time. Almost year round there was something to do and that was important to keeping boys out of trouble. I decided a long time ago I’d rather they were fishing and hunting than running the streets with other guys with nothing to do. That just spelled trouble anyway you wanted to look at it.

But there was one activity that beat all the others hands down–the yearly rattlesnake round-up. Yep, you heard me right. Each year Tift County held its annual rattlesnake round-up. A guy would pull in his trailer at the fairgrounds and set up to milk the rattlesnakes. This guy would pay so much a pound and the one who brought in the longest snake got more money. I think there was some way you were paid by the foot. I’m not sure about that but I know a lot of high school and college guys made good money during a short period of time. We often went to watch as the guy milked the snakes. It was very interesting and scary.

Brian and his buddies had been hunting rattlesnakes and had been lucky, if you call that lucky. I’m not sure how they caught the snake, but they had him in a 5 gallon bucket in the back of his truck. They were headed to weigh up. Brian and Chris with another guy sat in the cab. Several other boys rode in the back of the truck. The road they were on was a “washboard” dirt road. Now for city guys, that is a rode packed so hard that the ruts and ridges in the rode bounces you around like you were riding across a wash board. If you don’t know what that is, then it really doesn’t matter, I guess.

Anyway, Brian heard some yelling and scrambling around in the bed of the truck. Then boys began to jump out of the truck, landing on gravel, tumbling and rolling into the bushes beside the road. Brian jammed on his brakes. When he got to the back of the truck he understood why all of the excitement. The bumpy road had jarred the lid off the bucket and that rattlesnake, all 6 feet, had crawled out of the bucket. Suddenly, the back of that truck was no place to be.

I’m not sure what happened to the snake, but I think that ended the round-up for those guys, at least for that year.

Grams

The man we rented from had put a sow with some little pigs in the pasture next to our house. That was the biggest pig I’d ever seen. I’m not sure why they were separated from his other pigs, but there they were.

One Saturday morning I looked out the front door and the pigs had gotten out. Somehow the mother pig and her piglets had gotten through the fence and were roaming around our yard. I knew they needed to be back inside the fence but I had very little experience with pigs; actually, no experience. So, what were we going to do? Surely we could get a momma pig and her babies back inside the fence. I called Brian and Chris.

We all got out in the yard and tried to round them up and head them toward the gap in the fence. Just about the time we thought we’d made it, one of the pigs would decide to check out something in another part of the yard. While we were getting that one started back toward the others, another one would get loose. Finally, the old sow was back inside the fence and the little ones were making their way toward her. Once inside, then we would shore up the hole in the fence so they couldn’t get out again.

We had been at this for the most part of an hour when the last little pig started across the gap in the fence. Out of frustration Brian put his foot under the pig and lifted him across into the pasture. Now, that was the wrong thing to do. That ole momma pig gave a snort and out through that hole she came, right in behind Brian. She had eyes for no one but Brian.

Brian took off running with that ole sow close on his heels. Chris and I were laughing so hard we could barely hear Brian’s calls for help. After about three laps around the house, Brian hollered, “Mom, bring me a hoe or a shovel. Anything the stop this pig.” I sent Chris for the hoe, handed it to Brian as he came past me, and watched as he turned on the sow. Threatening her with the hoe, he gradually headed her back through the fence to where her piglets waited for her.

While he was fixing the fence, Brian glared at me. “I don’t see what was so funny. How’d you like to have a mad momma pig chasing you around the house?” I was still laughing. I’d heard people talk about being as mad as an ole wet hen. I didn’t know if this was the same sort of thing, but I can’t imagine a wet hen being any more annoyed with someone than that ole sow was with Brian that morning.

Grams

The boys and I were living at the Mission House. That’s what we called it anyway. One of the members in our church had a relative whose home was vacant while they cared for their parents. We were told we could rent the house furnished, at least until something better came along. The only problem was the heat pump was broken and the guy did not plan to get it fixed until they were able to move back home. So, if we wanted it, we’d have to take it as is. By this time we were ready to be in our own place so we took it.

Now to begin with, things went well. It was fall and winters in south Georgia did not get very bad, usually. Anyway, there was a huge fireplace in the den and we could used electric heaters and blankets if we had to. So, we’d do what we had to do.

Winter was unusually harsh, coming early with cold rain. There was some wood already there and we were told we could use it. But because of our delight in an open fire, we used the wood up quickly. Yep, you guessed it. We ran out of wood just about the time it got really cold.

Finances were kind of tight and I didn’t know where I was going to get anymore firewood. At night we’d be ok. My concern was mother. She was at the house all day and would need heat. I kept Chris home from school the day the wood ran out. His job was to hunt dead fall wood and drag it to the house, break it up and keep the fire going. Somehow I’d find some way to get wood before the next morning.

That night as we sat around the supper table, the boys looked at me, “Were you able to get any wood ordered today?” “No, I just don’t have the money.” I began to think of who I could leave mother with the next day. It was a couple of days til payday and then I could order enough to last a while. About that time there was a knock at the door. It was way after dark and in the country folks didn’t come visiting that late. Brian got up to see who it was.

A man we didn’t know stood on the steps. “Is this where Dianne Sargent lives?” Brian told him it was. Then the man said, “I was told to deliver this load of wood to your house. If you don’t mind me and my man here will stack it for you here on the carport. Will that be ok?” We all looked at each other, hardly believing our ears. “Who told you to do this?” The man just smiled and said, “Ma’am, I was just told to deliver this wood to your house and that’s what I’ve done.” And with that he turned and began stacking wood.

When the man drove away, this woodpile reached higher than Brian’s 5′11″ and ran the full length of the carport. I didn’t have to buy wood the rest of the winter. Brian and Chris had to split some of the wood, but that didn’t matter. God had supplied our need in a most ample way. Didn’t matter that it needed splitting. Well, Brian and Chris might have argued that point a little, but I doubt it. They were just glad to be able to be warm.

Grams

I’ve never had to live on the street, but twice in my life I have not had a place of my own. However, God graciously allowed friends to let me stay with them until I could get back on my feet. One such time was in Tifton, Georgia. Without a job, one son still at home and the other one in college, finances quickly became an issue.

Brian was working part time while enrolled at ABAC, a local community college. He would have to drop out of school and go to work full time until I could find a job and get back on my feet. The school Chris attended was part of a ministry that also operated a house for people in need. The lady in charge agreed for the boys  and me to live there, free of charge, until we were able to get our own place.

Everyone I knew was helping me look for a job. The only thing I could find was a job checking groceries at Winn-Dixie Supermarket. I took it even though it was only part-time. Some money is better than no money. Never have understood people who quit a job because they’re not making enough. Brian went to work full-time and within 6 months we were back in our own place. Two years later, Brian was able to return to school full-time. Those two years were tough, but we got through them and moved on to better days.

There are a lot of things I could say as to how we got back on our feet. Of course, the most obvious response is that God took care of us, and He did. I would never take away from Him any glory and honor due Him because of His watch care over His children. He put a love in other people’s hearts for the boys and me. He opened doors to allow both Brian and me to get better jobs and then finally one of the biggest and nicest houses we’ve ever lived in. Then the Lord called us to come to Nashville and begin a new life, a new beginning.

Tough days, times of hardship, are times to look back on the goodness of God. Surely if He can and will bring me through those days, He can and will bring me through this day, even the ones to come. Sure I was stronger back then and a lot healthier, but there were still days I did not have the answer. God had to intervene. I can honestly tell you that never, in all that ever happened to the boys and me have I ever felt that God abandoned us. I am His and He is mine.

Grams