There Goes Connie - A Christian Travel Blog: Trip info on Monday and devotionals on Friday.

Thinking about the Number 40 on this 15th Day of Lent

03/22/2019 By: CCPearsoncomment

Baptists don’t observe Lent – at least, not as a denomination — so my exposure to the concept and the practice is pretty much limited to our 4 years in Ecuador which is predominately Catholic. From New Year’s Day until Mardi Gras, we dodged water guns and balloons (sometimes unsuccessfully). Rather than having an elaborate parade with expensive costumes, much of Latin America enjoys this (mostly) silly and harmless custom, and tourists are a favorite target. Our vehicle admittedly was pummeled more than we were, thank goodness, but we received our fair share of hurling wetness.

Then came Ash Wednesday, and we passed many people on the streets with gray crosses on their foreheads. From what we learned, those people had been to church that morning where a priest dipped his finger in ashes, then placed a cross on their heads while saying the words, “Repent and believe in the Gospel,” or “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” The mood was much more somber on that day than on the day before.

Ash Wednesday marked the beginning of the observance of Lent, which is a 40-day period from that Wednesday until Maundy Thursday (the Thursday before Easter) not counting Sundays. Here is an explanation I found this week that reflects what I’ve been taught through the years:

Lent is a penitential period, involving the dual disciplines of abstinence and fasting. During Lent many Christians commit to fasting or giving up certain foods, habits or luxuries – for example meat, cakes and sweets, alcohol, smoking – for its duration (the money saved is often then donated to charity). This is done both as a form of penitence and as a spiritual tool to tame the body and ‘sharpen the spirit’ for prayer, reflection and contemplation in preparation for the celebration of Easter.

Forty is derived from the number of days Jesus spent in the wilderness after He was baptized, or others say it represents the number of hours Jesus was in the tomb.

I can recall a number of others places in the Bible where the number 40 was significant: 1) During the flood, it rained for 40 days and 40 nights. 2) The Israelites wandered in the desert for 40 years before being allowed to enter the Promise Land. 3) Moses spent 40 days and nights on Mount Sinai on two different occasions. 4) Spies were sent out to explore Canaan for 40 days. 5) Elijah went without food and water for 40 days on Mount Horeb. etc. etc. etc. In general, the number appears to represent a time of testing or trials.

I don’t know whether or not you plan to “give something up for Lent” this year, but I’ve thought of other “40’s” we might want to consider. We’re only on Day 15 of this year’s Lenten season. There’s still plenty of time.

Make a list of your 40 greatest blessings from God.
Do 40 hidden good deeds — ones for which you will not receive public credit.
Write 40 thank-you notes to people who have gone out of their way to help you recently.
Give your spouse a list of 40 things you love about him/her.
Decide on 40 things you love about your church and share them with your pastor and/or Sunday School class.
Memorize a Bible verse every day for 40 days.
Spend 40 minutes a day in prayer, remembering to intercede on behalf of our country and its leaders.

Can you think of other “40’s” to suggest?

Have a meaningful Lent, everyone.

And, since this happens to fall on our son’s 42nd birthday, I want to give a shout out to Matt. We hope he has a wonderful day. 🙂

5 Must-Do Activities in Athens, GA

03/18/2019 By: CCPearsoncomment

VISIT THE BUTTS-MEHRE HERITAGE HALL ON THE University of Georgia Campus. That’s where the Georgia athletic department showcases its awards in every sport. Look at the career of Vince Dooley and the Heisman Trophy won by Herschel Walker in 1982, in addition to the championships won by the university’s basketball, baseball, tennis and other teams. Admission is free, and the displays are beautifully presented.

TAKE A MUSIC HISTORY TOUR WITH PAUL AND LEARN ABOUT THE BEGINNINGS OF R.E.M. AND THE B52s. This tour leaves from the Athens Welcome Center, and Paul is an encyclopedia of information about groups from the late 70’s and 80’s who got their start in Athens, GA. It is a walking tour which makes even more of an impression.

EXPLORE THE SHOPS IN DOWNTOWN ATHENS. From the vinyl record collection at Wuxtry Records to the many boutiques, University of Georgia fan items and gift shops, you will want to allow several hours to find just the right items to take back home with you.

EAT AT THE GRILL, 171 COLLEGE AVENUE. Burgers, hot dogs shakes and lots of surprising sides and toppings are served with a nostalgic decor, featuring Coca-Cola memorabilia and a vintage jukebox. Watching all the UGA students come and go will make you feel young, and the prices will make you happy.

TAKE AN ATHENS HERITAGE TOUR BEGINNING AT THE WELCOME CENTER. The Welcome Center is housed in the Church-Waddel-Brumby House built in 1820. Your heritage tour will begin with a commentary on the rooms and artifacts in the home, then will continue via van and guide through the streets of Athens. You’ll see examples of outstanding architecture, including the lovely antebellum homes on fraternity and sorority row.

And for a bonus activity, try an UGA hunt and see how many painted bulldogs you can see around town.

Ha! For some reason, these are all numbered #1. Could it be that they are equally important? You decide.

15 Lessons From a Crisis

03/15/2019 By: CCPearson4 Comments

What good is it to have a crisis if we don’t learn something from it? Here are 15 lessons I learned and relearned recently that I hope to remember for many years to come.

WE ARE FORTUNATE TO HAVE HUNTSVILLE HOSPITAL IN NORTH ALABAMA. Yes, I wish Hartselle had a good healthcare facility, but since we don’t, it is extremely comforting to know that Huntsville Hospital is only 40 minutes away. It is considered to be a premiere hospital, and it excels in the area of heart health — which is exactly what I needed.
To all of my women friends: if you experience chest pains that radiate up or out, go get checked out immediately. It might be your gallbladder, or it might be heartburn or stress, but you just won’t know until someone with skill and diagnostic equipment determines what is going on. And, if it IS your heart, you want to be IN the hospital and not home wondering. Just FYI, if the pain radiates to your left jaw that is more telling than your right jaw. Also, shortness of breath, feeling feverish or pain that returns are prime indicators.
NEEDLES MAKE ME UNHAPPY. I started to say “I hate needles,” but I try very hard to avoid the word “hate.” I have one really good vein in the crook of my right arm, but anytime a tech starts looking elsewhere I get very tense. The back side of my hand used to be my most dreaded place for a needle, but thanks to 4 days in the hospital, I’ve found new places to dread. I did learn that as a patient I have the right to ask for the ultrasound team to come in to find a good vein, rather than having a tech or a nurse keep digging with what feels like an ice pick. Keep that piece of advice in mind if the need arises for you.
A hospital is not the best place to be a food writer. Bless ’em. The dietary staff has a formidable job. I understand. And, every time a member of that staff came in my room, they were extremely courteous. MANY patients are on restricted diets, and they have to be mindful of ALL of them. I was given several options at each meal, and the food was nutritious. I certainly didn’t DREAD the meals, you understand. And, under the circumstances, I wasn’t about to ask for something “not good for me” to be brought in. How else can I say it? It was “hospital food.”
Pajama pants are good to wear under hospital gowns. Not only do pajama pants keep you warmer, they preserve at least a semblance of modesty when there is very little to be had during numerous procedures and constant tests.
I appreciate good hygiene. Oh, the joy of being able to take a shower and wash my hair! Oh, how good it feels to brush my teeth! By Day Two, I had finally obtained a tooth brush, but no showers were allowed during my stay (because of the heart monitor). That made me feel even worse, and I was hyper-aware of how good everyone ELSE smelled. Sponge baths help only a little. I have taken some record long showers since I got home and hope to never forget what a privilege it is to have lots of soap and hot water.
A good night’s sleep is a blessing. Hospitals are notorious for being places where no one gets to sleep more than a few minutes at a time. The necessary interruptions are relentless. I completely understand that everyone has a job to do, and I really appreciated it when my night nurse saw something “unusual” on my heart monitor and came quickly to check on me TWO NIGHTS IN A ROW. Really, that’s important, and it let me know that I was being “watched” even when no one was in my room. (A small hint of what it means to be watched over by God, don’t you think?) But, truthfully, I am a spoiled American. My bed at home is an oasis, and my mattress is one of my favorite material items. Hospital mattresses . . . and blankets . . . and pillows, on the other hand? I repeat. I’m a spoiled American.
Everyone has a story. Techs for taking vital signs, techs for drawing blood, day shift RNs, night shift RNs, RNs in training, people pushing wheelchairs from place to place, people carrying meal trays, people who come around to help heart patients take their important laps around the halls, E.R. personnel, X-ray technicians, doctors of all kinds, fellow patients, etc. etc. etc. They all walk into that hospital day after day with their own stories, their own challenges, their own joys and sorrows. It only takes a question or two for those stories to come spilling out. I certainly love it when someone takes time to ask a question that gets me talking, don’t you? Really. Deep down. Don’t you want someone to care that much?
Hospital stays provide a new perspective. A walk down any hall (with your hospital gown carefully tied, of course) lets you see that so many people are far worse off than you are. You are actually one of the lucky ones. In the E.R. on the first day, I witnessed a patient come bolting out of a triage room hurling expletives at the nurse who had been trying to access her condition. I was immediately grateful for security personnel and the fact that every person coming into the E.R. has to be scanned and searched for weapons, etc. On Sunday night while I was going through some dreaded preparation procedures, 23 people lost their lives in tornadoes only a few hours away and dozens of others lost their homes. I should have had ZERO complaints. Then on Monday, I had to wait SEVEN HOURS for my heart catherization to begin. That was frustrating, and my anxiety level was rising, BUT I found out that the reason for the delay was the fact that six people before me had developed emergency situations during their caths causing their procedures to take more time. In contrast, mine went like clockwork. Colossians 3:2 – “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.”
Healthcare professionals are wired differently than I am. They are hyper-attentive to details. They don’t mind blood and guts, and they have servant hearts. I have a renewed appreciation for everyone of them. Romans 12:6 – “We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us.”
God knows the Big Picture, and it’s evident in the smallest details. One in particular that I had to smile about was this. I was in the middle of preparing food and the house for company coming that night for dinner when my chest pains happened. The dinner, of course, was cancelled, but as a result of my preparations, I walked back into a clean house with food in the fridge when I finally got home. All we had to do was heat it up. Who knew I would be the one reaping the benefits from my efforts? God did.
I know that I am eternally prepared for the moment death comes, but I still have things I want to say and do before I die. In a vain attempt to keep things light as Steve and I were driving to the emergency room, I tried to tell him things I hoped he would include in my funeral, what clothes to bury me in, how to dispose of some of my possessions, etc. He didn’t like that very much, of course, and I don’t blame him. I remember, though, that my stepmother June had taken the time several years before she died to write letters to her children and to my dad. She had them in her Bible where they would be certain to find them. Those letters are priceless treasures to their recipients. I need to follow her example.
Pain signals that something is wrong with our bodies, but fear is detrimental to our health. The more nervous, agitated, anxious, yes, fearful, I became during the procedures over a span of four days, the higher my blood pressure and heart rate climbed. That, in turn, made the procedures much more difficult. More than anything, I needed to find peace and calmness — internally and externally. God keeps whispering in my ear, “Peace, be still, Connie.” I need to listen.
God wants me to be content operating in a lower gear. I confess to being a card-carrying overachiever. When someone gives me a task, I am never satisfied with a B or a C. I HAVE to make an A+. I disdain laziness, and I relish days with a to-do list and productivity goals. Now I’m searching for ways to better manage stress. Perhaps I will take on fewer tasks and allow myself ample time to complete them, rather than skidding on two wheels up to the deadine. Who wants to hold me accountable in this area? God loves me whether I make A’s or not. Romans 8: 38-39 – “For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, ³⁹nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Amen? Amen.
I am loved and people truly WANT to pray for me. When I “come to the end of myself” and put down the facade I carefully construct of being able to “handle it on my own,” I invariably find that my friends and loved ones are ready to lift me up, to intercede to God Almighty, to express their love and concern, and to help me bear whatever burden I am carrying. God hears my prayers, even the ones that I can’t put into words, and He is listening to the cries of His children everywhere all the time. He’s got this (whatever “this” may be at any given time), and He Is Able.

James 5:16 – “Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.”

Romans 8:26 – “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.”

1 Timothy 2:1 – “First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people”

Daniel 3:17 – “If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king.”

God is able. Period.

Good Eats in Athens, GA

03/11/2019 By: CCPearsoncomment

5 & 10

Five and Ten, at 1073 S. Milledge Avenue in Athens, is possibly the most upscale restaurant in the city. Owner and Executive Chef Hugh Acheson won the James Beard award for Best Chef in the Southeast in 2012 and has recently been nominated for Outstanding Restauranteur in 2019. Diners walk in the door of 5 & 10 expecting an exceptional experience, and much care is given to meeting that expectation.

The name of the restaurant stems from its former location at the corner of Highway 5 and Highway 10, but several years ago it moved to its present spot at the end of Fraternity and Sorority Row for University of Georgia students. The building is a large home built in 1913 by architect Fred Orr who placed his distinctive “O” in the roof line right over the front door.

Steve and I shared the Duck Liver Mousse appetizer and the Grilled Trout entree. Both were outstanding, beautifully presented and delicious. Service was discreet but attentive.

Duck Liver Mousse with sweet potato and apple chips.

I would strongly recommend calling to make a reservation. Parking is provided in the back.

LAST RESORT GRILL

The colorful mural of vegetables painted on the side of the building will assure you that you’ve found the right spot. Last Resort Grill is vintage is every sense of the word. It began as a music/entertainment venue in 1966, seeing such notable performers as Doc Watson, Jimmy Buffett and Steve Martin during the 1960’s and 70’s. It was closed and vacant throughout most of the 80’s before being reopened as a restaurant in 1992.

Last Resort Grill, at the corner of Clayton Street and Hull Street, is open for lunch and dinner seven days a week. It prides itself on fresh, local produce, homemade dressings and trout straight from the streams of North Georgia.

Steve and I shared a flavorful veggie bowl and a thick burger.

The many flavors of cheesecakes and triple-layer cakes are made by nearby Blackbird Bakery and are said to be worth the calories in every mouthful.

Go for the good food, the beautiful local artwork lining the walls, and the vibe of history.

STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM PIE

At least 30 years ago, Steve and I attended a veterinary conference on the campus of the University of Georgia and stayed at the Georgia Center for Continuing Education and Hotel. We enjoyed a dessert during that visit that was good enough to remain in our minds ever since. During this recent visit, we wanted to know if that pie still existed.

Yes, it does. Inside the Magnolia Room at the Georgia Center, you’ll find their famous Strawberry Ice Cream Pie that has been served since the building opened for guests in 1956. The crust is made of crushed almonds and coconut. The filling is vanilla ice cream infused with strawberries and sweetened whipped cream. The pie is topped with a strawberry coulis and garnished with fresh strawberry slices. Hopefully, this pie will stay on the menu for years to come.

By the way, their celestial chicken is also an iconic dish that has been served since 1956. If you find yourself on the UGA campus, I would highly recommend seeking out the Georgia Center for a delicious meal.

Then My Friends Started Praying

03/08/2019 By: CCPearson8 Comments

One week ago, chest pains woke me up very early. They only lasted a few minutes, so I managed to get back to sleep. Later, as I was getting out of the shower, they struck again. This time they were more intense, stabbing and twisting. They radiated up my neck and along my right jaw. I got dizzy and sat down. After a couple of minutes, all seemed fine, but in my mind, I knew that radiating factor was not good. But, I had things to do. Company was coming for supper, the house needed to be straightened and the table set.

I googled “Signs of a Heart Attack in Women.” One of the first ones mentioned chest pain that radiated upward, so it was time to confess to Steve what had happened. We called my local doctor’s office, I explained the situation, and the nurse’s exact words were, “If you were my momma, I’d be on the road with you to Huntsville Hospital right this minute!” That sounded pretty serious.

I figured we could go, quickly get checked out, and I’d still be back home in time to put the finishing touches on the evening meal. Alas, NOTHING happens quickly in an emergency room.

EKG was normal. Blood work (what would prove to be the first of MANY needle sticks in my future) was normal. Chest X-ray was normal. BUT, I had described chest pain that radiated to my jaw AND had mentioned that the pains happened when I was relaxed and not exerting myself. That led to another test, a CTA scan with contrast, that ended up happening at 9:00 p.m.

By then, of course, the dinner plans had been cancelled, and I had the nagging worry of having left the crockpot turned on low at home. I was still planning to sleep in my own bed that night but lost that hope when I was told that it would likely be morning before the results would be read and reported, so I’d need to stay.

I sent Steve home. Bless him. At least one of us needed some sleep, and SOMEBODY had to turn off that crockpot!

About 11:00 p.m., the cardiologist’s nurse practitioner came in and said the results were troubling. She then proceeded to draw me the following picture.

Two small blockages on each end. Two larger blockages, of undetermined amounts, near the center. The one on my LAD artery (often called “the widowmaker”) appeared to be the largest and was the most concerning. Now, I was getting nervous.

The doctor himself came in at midnight — wouldn’t that raise a red flag for you? He said they wouldn’t be able to know what to do about that LAD blockage without further tests, including a heart catherization that would have to wait until Monday. He strongly advised against going home because of the possibility of being away from the hospital if things escalated before they could address that artery. Now, my blood pressure was REALLY soaring.

I called Steve. His calm voice always keeps me from losing it. I didn’t cry.

An iv was started, injections in my abdomen (blood thinners) every 12 hours began, and a heart monitor was hooked up. When you’ve basically been told you are a ticking time bomb, sleep doesn’t happen.

At 3:15 a.m. — yes, 3:15 a.m. — I was moved to a room on the cardiology floor. Nice people. Long, scary needles.

Another cardiologist came in about 7:00 a.m. that Saturday. After listening to my chest, back and neck, he said he heard an obstruction in my neck. So, in addition to an electrocardiogram and regular blood draws to measure heart enzymes, an ultrasound of my neck was ordered. What? More obstructions and blockages? I asked what that could mean. “You could have a stroke,” they said.

Saturday was a complete nightmare for me. In addition to the constant parade of nurses, doctors, trips down the hall in a wheelchair for tests, trying to go to the bathroom dragging an iv pole and my portable heart monitor bag, my veins were beginning to be uncooperative. About mid-afternoon, a tech came in to draw blood, and the stick was excruciating. That was when I cried.

I was in pain. I was scared. I had a bleak-looking future. It all came gushing out through my tear ducts. Less than 48 hours earlier, I considered myself to be “the picture of health.” Now, I was a mess.

After awhile, I insisted that Steve go home and get some rest. We were scheduled to start a new Life Group on Sunday morning at our church. He was going to have to do that without me and needed to prepare. Plus, I was craving time to just “be” between needle pricks and checks of my vital signs.

That’s when I reached out to my friends on Facebook. Until then, only a few people knew the situation. I was in desperate need of heavy prayer support . . . and I got it.

Within a short time, hundreds of people were interceding to the Father on my behalf, and I could feel down deep in my soul that He was answering their prayers. Some people feel very negatively about Facebook, but that night and through the next two days, the connection it provided with friends was a life- and sanity-saver.

I got a couple of good naps Saturday night – hallelujah. Sunday brought far fewer needles and interruptions. I spent time in God’s Word searching verses about His peace. I found this again — John 14:27 — “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

I gave myself a sponge bath (no showers were allowed) and put on a fresh hospital gown and some lipstick. I still had to face the preparation for the heart cath and the actual procedure, but I knew my friends were praying. It made all the difference in the world.

Monday morning I was up and going by 4:30 a.m., knowing that patients would be taken back for caths beginning at 7:00 a.m. Our son Matt arrived from Franklin, TN to sit with his parents, love on us, provide some laughs and put his pastoring skills to good use. After SEVEN HOURS of waiting, it was finally my turn.

From that point on, the miracles started happening. The heart blockages were not bad enough to require any stents. The ultrasound on my neck showed no problems. And, I was given the news that once I went through the recovery protocol, I could GO HOME!!!!

As you might expect, I have spent the last three days catching up on sleep and processing all that God was teaching me through this trial. Most of you don’t know this, but back in 1994, I got a dire diagnosis. After a biopsy, a doctor in Decatur called to tell me that I had a vascular malignancy. He said that he was going to send the sample off to New York for further evaluation before we could decide how to proceed. I was home alone when he called. Our kids were teenagers. I was stunned. My future was very uncertain. But, after a harrowing week, the news was amazing. Instead of cancer, I had a benign hemangioma! I’ll never forget my sister-in-law’s words. She said, “Connie, I believe that test left Decatur malignant and arrived in New York benign BECAUSE OF ALL THE PRAYERS.”

I can’t help but wonder if the same thing happened with those heart blockages that showed up last Friday night. Just maybe, they started out bigger and shrunk as the prayers began. Whatever the case, I am so very grateful for the gift of another day and for the amazing blessing of friends who truly care. Thanks be to God, and thank YOU, my praying friends. Thank you. Thank you.

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow, Praise Him all creatures here below, Praise Him above, ye heavenly host, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

By the way, the source of those original chest pains is still undetermined. It wasn’t my heart. I no longer have a gallbladder, so it wasn’t that. The likely culprit is stress. Now to see if I can learn to manage that aspect of my life.

2 Great Breakfast Sites in Athens, Georgia

03/04/2019 By: CCPearsoncomment

I know. I know. It must be strange for this proud Auburn Tiger to be recommending restaurants in Athens, Georgia, but those Bulldogs are serving up some mighty fine food. Today and next Monday I’ll give you some ideas when you visit for an away game at Sanford Stadium or just happen to find yourself on the campus or in the city in the future.

home.made

Yes. That’s the name of it — home.made. Instinctively, I wanted to try it. It just sounds good, don’t you agree? home.made is open for lunch and dinner Tuesday through Saturday, but we chose to visit for Saturday brunch, which is served from 10:00-2:00, and it was exceptional.

The outside of 1072 Baxter Street is rather unremarkable, but the food produced inside shows commitment to high quality, seasonal, locally-sourced ingredients prepared with skill and imagination.

Steve and I shared both the salmon and the chicken thighs, and we found the grits, the sweet potato gratin and the pickled deviled egg to be outstanding. We splurged on the green tomato crisp for dessert, and I promise it tasted very much like apple pie.

home.made is several notches above Cracker Barrel. Yes, Cracker Barrel is a great place for breakfast, but every once in awhile you just want something extraordinary. And, by the way, the tea and coffee were special, too.

MAMA’S BOY RESTAURANT

Isn’t that a great name for a restaurant in a college town? My son unashamedly calls himself a Mama’s Boy, and I bet he’d head straight there based on the name alone.

Located at 197 Oak Street, Mama’s Boy is open 7 days a week from 7:00 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. We arrived for an early Sunday morning breakfast before driving back to Alabama, and the place was packed. Fortunately, there’s a large parking lot in the back, because the front lot is WAY too small. I have to admit that it felt good to be “where the young folks were,” rather than at some old codgers kind of place. Ha! The building and decor are rustic, but the vibe is fun and energetic.

Here we shared the veggie scramble with grits and a biscuit and the Georgia Peach French toast. Both were yummy. The lunch menu lists several sandwiches and salads. They sound good, too, but I can see why breakfast is such a big deal for Mama’s Boys everywhere.

Check back next Monday for some dinner recommendations and where to find the pie that has been served on the University of Georgia campus since 1956.

For other breakfast suggestions in Athens, Georgia, click here.

When Your Grandchild Leads by Example and Habit

03/01/2019 By: CCPearsoncomment

As I described in last Friday’s post, we recently spent three days in the Smoky Mountains with our oldest grandchild, Allie, who is in her final semester of high school. The goal was quality time, so we did everything possible to achieve it.

On Saturday night, while keeping logs on the fire, watching a movie and eating S’mores, we devised a plan for Sunday morning. We settled on each of us having extended individual quiet times and then listening to one of her Uncle Matt’s sermons via his church’s website. All members of the Pearson clan are accustomed to getting up on Sunday morning and heading out to our various churches for Bible study and worship, but we were away from our normal routine. Isn’t that what we generally face when we’re on vacation?

Steve and I were fine with the plan until Allie emerged from her room on Sunday morning with her hair fixed cute, her make-up applied and wearing a pretty dress. When we commented about how nice she looked, she said, “Well, it IS Sunday morning.” Yes, indeed.

That did it. We needed to find a church service and go to worship together. We googled First Baptist Gatlinburg, FBC Pigeon Forge and FBC Sevierville. After factoring in distance, service times, descriptions of worship styles and plans for later in the afternoon, we decided to attend the 11:00 service at FBC Sevierville. It proved to be a great choice.

First of all, FBC Sevierville has a well-conceived and implemented plan for first time guests. The signs instructed us to put our flasher lights on. It was raining, but when Steve stopped to let Allie and me out near the entrance, a greeter with a huge umbrella was johnny-on-the-spot and escorted us all the way to the door. He may have gotten wet, but he made sure we did NOT.

Inside the door, we were greeted warmly, our questions were answered, and we received a nice guest bag. Seats in an unembarrassing place (a.k.a. not on the front pews) were available, and we slipped in as the music began.

Oh, the music. That, of course, is my heart language — especially sacred praise and worship music that is sung and played in an excellent way. An orchestra with at least 25 instruments was on stage in front of a choir of about 50 singers. The selections were a mixture of traditional with more recent songs, and the choir sang a stunningly beautiful arrangement of “How Great Thou Art.” I couldn’t help it. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

The preacher’s message focused on the words “ALL” in Proverbs 3:5-6.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge him, and He will make straight your paths.

It was a great passage for two retirees and a high school senior to hear AGAIN. You have to believe God had orchestrated our steps that morning.

After the closing prayer, a pipe organ with a skillful organist at the bench cranked out a spirited, classical postlude. Yes, I said a PIPE ORGAN! When was the last time I had heard one? Was it when I got to play one every Sunday at Central Baptist in Decatur? Those sounds might not have meant much to Steve or to Allie, but they meant the world to me. It was as if God was letting me know He saw me and wanted to meet with me that morning.

If Allie hadn’t packed her pretty dress . . . If Allie hadn’t said, “Well, it IS Sunday morning” . . . . We would have missed it. I would have missed it.

Extended quiet times would have been great. Hearing Matt preach via the computer would have been great. But, I thank God for allowing Allie, because of her lifetime of habits, to nudge us toward corporate worship that Sunday morning.

My 4 Must-Eats in Gatlinburg, Tennessee

02/25/2019 By: CCPearson2 Comments

Pancakes, trout, fritters and apple butter are the first food items to pop into my mind when I think about spending a few days in Gatlinburg, but the specifics of WHERE to consume those items is a key consideration, as well.

CROCKETT’S BREAKFAST CAMP

Crockett’s Breakfast Camp right on the main drag (a.k.a. Parkway through town) in Gatlinburg was a must-try on my list during a recent visit. Judging from the line wound around the building, it was on many other people’s list, too. Crockett’s only opened 5 years ago, and this was my first visit. Obviously, they wowed people quickly.

The good news was that a parking lot for a mere $2.00 for 2 hours sits across the street from Crockett’s. And another piece of good news is that you can call ahead or even sign up via email to get put on the waiting list. The bad news is that we didn’t know about that until we were enduring an hour and 15-minute wait.

The very good news is that the food is WONDERFUL. This is where Steve and I got our “trout fix” while we were in the area. Breakfast of pecan-crusted trout, scrambled eggs, grits, sausage gravy, hashbrowns and a thick, fluffy biscuit arrived in a black skillet with a side dish loaded with corn pone — possibly the best I’ve ever eaten.

I highly recommend Crockett’s. Just take my advice and put your name on the list before you arrive. And, by the way, it closes at 1:00 p.m. — strictly a breakfast-brunch place

APPLEWOOD FARMHOUSE RESTAURANT

Apple fritters generously dusted with confectioner’s sugar and a side of apple butter start every meal, along with a small glass of Applewood Julep (a refreshing juice concoction). A cup of hot soup and mashed potatoes come with every entree, and the choices are typical Southern specialties, such as meat loaf, turkey and dressing, chicken and dumplings, chicken pot pie and the like. Portions are very generous, too.

In the past, we’ve always arrived along with hundreds of other hungry diners, and once we got our name on the list, we could wander around the big Apple Barn and other shops on the premises. This time — in mid-February — we walked right in and were seated immediately. The food was good, but somehow, I missed the crowds and the Apple Barn was closed when we visited. Bummer. I would have been sorely tempted to bring a few jars of their apple butter home with me.

Both Applewood Farmhouse Restaurant and Applewood Farmhouse Grill are on the property. I suggest you go to the one with the shortest wait time. The menus for each appear to be interchangeable.

THE OLD MILL in Pigeon Forge

In terms of just pure deliciousness, this is probably my very favorite. We arrived about 12:30 p.m. and had a 40-minute wait, but the nearby shops were open, and the weather was nice. All the better to get our appetites fully stirred.

Corn fritters with maple butter and a cup of hot chowder start the meal at The Old Mill. The service was great, and the food was everything we expected. Oh yes, the pecan pie is to-die-for. I confess that I brought home a package of fixings for more of the corn chowder and some jalapeno cornbread mix and chow-chow for a cozy supper in the near future. The Old Mill will remain on my MUST LIST.

PANCAKE PANTRY

The line is ALWAYS down the sidewalk at the Pancake Pantry. They don’t take reservations, so you just know that unless you “hit it just right,” you’re going to have to wait. The variety of pancakes, hoecakes and crepes is dizzying, but there is bound to be something for everyone.

I ordered Austrian Apple Walnut Crepes, Allie had Swiss chocolate chip pancakes and Steve (Mr. Healthy) had the Whole Wheat pancakes. Service was quick and friendly, and the food was good.

I just have a couple of gripes to share. We had to pay $10.00 to park nearby, and Pancake Pantry only accepts cash. Yes, CASH! Who carries cash these days? Yes, they have a handy-dandy ATM machine inside, but that tacks on a $3.00 fee. Moral of the story? Be prepared.

The Pancake Pantry opened in 1960 and was the very FIRST pancake house in Gatlinburg. It has worked hard to become such a popular destination. But, I will probably try one of the other MANY pancake cafes that are scattered around now when I return. All of the ones I saw had large FREE parking lots, and I’m fairly certain they take credit cards.

So those were on my list last weekend. Our granddaughter Allie was with us, and all of the places were new to her. Without any prompting from me, she proclaimed The Old Mill as her favorite on our way home.

What about you? Which restaurants are always on your radar and considered worth the wait for you when you visit Gatlinburg?

When a Granddaughter Wants You All to Herself

02/22/2019 By: CCPearson2 Comments

I am an extremely blessed grandmother of 7 granddaughters with #8 due in July, if the sonogram is accurate. Steve would want me to quickly add that they are HIS granddaughters, too. Many times we spend time with them when they visit with their whole families or during Cousins Camp. Occasionally, we’ll have two at a time, but rarely do we get individual time with these precious girls. Last week we had an opportunity to do that, not once but twice.

Penelope Delia Rodgers was born on Valentine’s Day in 2010. I was actually present IN THE DELIVERY ROOM for her birth and remember that she had the reddest little baby lips I’d ever seen. Penelope went home to two waiting sisters, and another sister joined the family exactly one year and 10 days later. No way was Penelope going to be swallowed up in all of that femininity without distinguishing herself. She has been noticeably independent from the beginning. She’s not afraid to go against the grain and often brings insight (and an impressive vocabulary) into conversations that go far beyond what might be expected for one so young.

For her birthday this year, she requested a trip to the mall. Translation: Please give me some birthday money and let’s have a grandmomma/granddaughter shopping trip. When most of her shopping experiences are treks to Costco with the whole family of 9, an individual excursion to the mall with plenty of time for leisurely browsing sounded like a great gift to her. Granddaddy didn’t want to be left out, so she happily agreed to include him. That would mean TWO adults giving her undivided attention.

The way Penelope poses when she wants to get a “reaction.” 🙂

She loved spending some of her money at Claire’s on jewelry and such, but she mostly enjoyed Books-a-Million and came out with three new volumes in a series she’s devouring. We gave her at least a dozen choices of places for lunch, and she chose the Chow King Buffet. Ha! Possibly our LEAST favorite place to eat, but this was all about Penelope. Right? Penelope chatted amiably and appeared to truly love her day of spoiling.

The second two-on-one time was more extensive and had been carefully anticipated for months. Our oldest granddaughter Allie Grace Greenhaw is a senior in high school. She’ll graduate in May and then head off to college. We so wanted a time to just focus on her, to encourage her and to spoil her a bit heading into the final push of school. After carefully examining her school schedule and the many commitments on her calendar, we found that President’s Day weekend was available. We decided that a cabin in Gatlinburg could provide some cozy times by the fireplace, a chance to soak up nature (something she craves) and some great food. With my infamous Clipboard-of-Fun-mentality, I started suggesting snowtubing at Ober Gatlinburg or tickets to some of the popular shows. Allie said, “If it’s all right with you, could we just snuggle by the fire, eat s’mores and talk . . . and maybe take a hike or two in the woods.” Why, yes, Allie, we’d be mighty fine with that plan. We picked her up from school on Friday and headed to the mountains.

Allie has a gentle nature, and we learned on the trip that she was voted the female student with the “Best Christian Attitude” in her senior class. What could possibly be better? She’s smart but rather shy. We saw almost none of that shyness, however, as she talked and laughed and asked us dozens of questions. She happily answered a few that we threw out there, too, for the purpose of good conversation, you understand.

The time with Allie gave us a chance to hear her heart about her future and to share some of our own college adventures. It was so reassuring to know that at age eighteen her Christian values are deeply rooted and her thoughts about church/worship styles/theology and the like are rock solid. She’s already picked out a church that she can’t wait to “plug into” next fall. Again, what could possibly be better?

Our hearts are full as a result of the time we were able to invest in these wonderful granddaughters. What blessings they are and what bright futures they have! Praise God.

3 John 4 — “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.”

Psalm 128: 5-6 — “The Lord bless you from Zion! May you see the prosperity of Jerusalem all the days of your life!
May you see your children’s children! Peace be upon Israel!”

Proverbs 17:6 — “Grandchildren are the crown of the aged,
and the glory of children is their fathers.”

James 1:17 — “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights”

Bay Town Inn: Comfort and Convenience on the Mississippi Gulf Coast

02/18/2019 By: CCPearsoncomment

With most hotel rooms, you walk into an almost cookie-cutter layout. Bathroom near the door, a nook for hanging your clothes, the bed straight ahead, a desk area (if you’re lucky), a chair (again, if you’re lucky), a TV and MAYBE a microwave, small fridge (empty) and a coffeemaker.

With most bed and breakfast inns, you have a bedroom and bathroom and come into a large common dining room for breakfast with the inn’s other guests. Yes. This breakfast is often fabulous, but some people aren’t keen on having to make conversation with strangers first thing in the morning.

The units at Bay Town Inn are more like small condos than hotel rooms, and breakfast is brought to YOU, rather than you having to go to IT. Sweet!

The 10 guest suites are 500 square feet each in size. You walk into a living/dining area with a couch, kitchen, full bathroom with tub/shower combo, a bedroom with a king bed and a closet where you will find 2 waffle-weave robes. There is a TV in the living room and another in the bedroom. The fridge in the kitchen has a choice of waters, soft drinks, juices and yogurts — all complimentary. On the kitchen counter, you’ll see a welcome treat then a basket of granola bars, coffee, microwave popcorn, and in the cabinets, you’ll find dishes and cutlery.

Each day of your stay a bag of fresh muffins will be hanging outside your door to go along with your yogurt, juice and granola bars for a simple continental breakfast. On the weekends, a full cooked breakfast is delivered hot and fresh to your suite.

The grounds are beautifully-landscaped, and a pool is open for guests to enjoy when the weather is warm enough. Each suite has a designated parking spot.

Another great perk is the inn’s location. Bay Town Inn is almost directly across from the harbor, is next door to 200 North Beach (a wonderful restaurant) with more shops and eateries within an easy walk.

Steve and I had an opportunity to visit with the inn’s owner, Nikki Nicholson Moon. She has a remarkable — even miraculous — story of survival during Hurricane Katrina. Be sure to notice the carved angel tree across the street from the inn. That tree saved her life!

It is easy to see why Ms. Moon has so many repeat customers. There are even groups of friends who reserve rooms every year, so they can enjoy the inn and the events in Bay St. Louis together. I encourage you to check it out.

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