Everyday Saints: Miss Margie

When you hear the word "saint," what comes to mind?   Someone in a long robe, with an other-worldly glow?   The apostle Peter?  Mother Theresa?  Your grandmother?  A football player from New Orleans? 

As you may know, the Bible uses the word "saint" simply to describe someone who has been sanctified by God (in other words, all Christians).  So if the Lord has drawn you to himself through Christ, you are a saint.  And you are likely surrounded by saints -- common, "everyday" people who also know the Lord.

We saints are not perfect.  We struggle, and we fail, and then we press on.     But we are ultimately and always covered by the One who was perfect, who never failed, and who pressed on to death to give us life in God, now and forever. 

Being very thankful for all the saints I have known throughout the years, I would like to give you glimpses into some of their lives, starting here:

This is Miss Margie, my 3rd and 4th grade Sunday School teacher.

For as long as I can remember Miss Margie has had white hair, stood at 5'0" and weighed about 87 lbs soaking wet.  And she has loved Jesus Christ with unparalleled passion. 

As an eight and nine-year-old, I didn't understand Miss Margie's devotion.   Barely bigger than her students, she stood every Sunday, pleading with us to learn the Bible, memorize scripture, and understand the wonder of the Lord's gift of salvation. 

We would actually snicker a little every Easter as Miss Margie would tell the Resurrection story, tears streaming down her cheeks.   We didn't understand.  Why would a holiday full of chocolate, jelly beans and "good news" be sad?  

Our spiritual dullness didn't faze Miss Margie.  She endured the whispers, note-passing and other shenanigans.  She told of the Lord's goodness, and she wept.  She offered a five dollar prize out of her teacher's salary to anyone who would memorize the books of the Bible in order. 

She longed for us to know the object of her longing. 

When my husband and I dropped by for a visit one Saturday about eleven years ago, we had to ring the bell several times before Miss Margie came to the door.  She had been in her bedroom, on her knees, communing with the Lord, and petitioning Him on behalf of others. Tears were fresh in her eyes.

Even on our last visit, when she no longer recognized us, Miss Margie recounted the day she met the Lord at a country alter at the age of 18 as the most wonderful day of her life.   

After her conversion, Miss Margie went to be a missionary  in the Appalachian Mountains, returning home to teach school, and remaining single.  At 86, Miss Margie has lost her parents, a brother, and a sister. She has no husband, no children, and no job.

I have no doubt, though, that she revels every day in her role as the radiant bride of the Eternal Bridegroom. 

Oh, to have a life, a heart, and a legacy as full as hers.  I would count it a privilege.

Fair Enough

We just dragged our weary little bodies in from two nights of "rest and relaxation."    This break including going to the fair.  The big fair.

I look forward to writing more, later, but here are a couple (or ten) observations about the fair.  

1.   The fair, especially on "unlimited-ride wristband day" is a mass of humanity.  If you don't like humanity, you have no business going to a fair on wristband day.  

2.   Never underestimate the importance of bringing wet wipes to the fair.   Wet wipes are key to survival and thrival at the fair.  

3.   Fair workers are not the same as Disney World employees.  I'm pretty sure they don't even know each other.  (It's not a small world after all.) 

4.  If you frequent the symphony, ballet, or art museum in your home town, and at some point you need to go into hiding, go to the fair.  Symphony patrons do not also patronize the fair.  I promise.  

5.   If you have an older husband going to the fair with you, make sure he packs earplugs and Ibuprofen.   In fact, you might want to go ahead and set him up with his own "fair fanny pack for older gentlemen."   He'll thank you later.

6.  If you need and adrenaline/cardiac rush, but you've been convinced by those "Say No to Meth" billboards that you shouldn't go there, just take your two-year-old and three other family members with you for a ride in an open-car ferris wheel with no seat belts.  It will provide the same rush as the illicit drugs without that pesky prison time. 

7.  If you are highly concerned with feeding your family a nutritious meal at the fair, you may want to pair a foot-long, hand dipped corn dog with a candy-rolled caramel apple.  Assuming there's milk in the caramel, you've stealthily covered all four food groups for a mere $12 per person.

8.  If your safety-conscious husband proffers sunscreen multiple times before heading out for a 90-degree day at the fair, don't brush him off by claiming "my great-great-grandmother was a Pottawatomie Indian, so I don't need as much sunscreen as you" (hypothetically speaking, of course).  Later in the day, your (hypothetical) red shoulders may remind you that your great-great-grandparents on the other side were full-blooded Germans. 

9.  If you go to a major state fair with all the agricultural exhibits, it will be very educational for your children.   And there will be a lot of talk about "breeding."  And your six-year-old may ask you to explain breeding, so you need to be straightforward.    It's when horses get married.   (Of course, the ceremony takes place in a barn, not in a church.)

10.  If you feel spry and chipper upon your arrival at the fair around 10am, you may be tempted to poke a little fun at the people paying to use the foot massage machines.   But you may not be laughing so much seven hours later:

(I'm not mad.....I'm just eating ice cream, so my mouth was occupied.)

Other fair memories: 

The 4-H scarecrow contest was funny (and scary!).  

Yes, this winning entry boasted a "Children of the Corn" theme.  4-H has sure changed a lot since I was a Cloverleaf!

 

This one gave us a chuckle. 

 We met the "National Honey Queen" and sampled several varieties of the sweet stuff.   We discovered that our honey tastebuds are not very adventurous....we like the plain jane honey.  But we had fun finding that out. 

They're not nervous about their first big ride.  They're just meditating. 

Big girls. 

Stroller break. 

Funnel cake (eaten in honor of our friend, Davis). 

The almost-tweens rode together a lot.

Yummy sunset.