Just a Building

Alexis Baptist

Its a beautiful building, sitting there sheltered and shaded among the big Oaks. They frame the entrance way, a down home welcome. Still, it is only a building they guard.

It is only a building, made of brick and mortar. Built just a ways off the main route between Stanley and Lincolnton North Carolina. There are two ways in to the parking area. One off the main road and one that was once a dirt road now paved that connects the parking area to yet another roadway.

It is a building, well maintained and cared for. Everything has a place, and there are places for everything. The staff takes their responsibilities seriously. It is requested that there be no food or drinks in the sanctuary, and anyone in the classrooms to make sure they clean up behind themselves should they have food in the room.

The pews are comfortable, and the carpeting a soothing shade. The stained glass windows creating the perfect moments of reverence and color.

It is still, just a building.

There are classrooms for every age. The ages and their needs are taken into consideration as to where their classrooms are. Some of the members have problems with stairs, others need windows, most just need somewhere to sit and a good teacher to lead them.

The grounds are well kept, no fallen limbs or other debris litter the area. Hand rails are everywhere that they may be needed to prevent falls. Still, it is only a building.

Even as this building has special extra buildings around it. The hut directly behind it, another space for classes or small events. The family life center up on the hill where the youth meet as well as special events are held.

Still...... this is not the church.

The church, is the members, the people, young, not quite as young and no longer young who gather there.

The church, are those who open their heart to those in need. Who give what they can or seek out what is needed if they don't have it. They take care of others, they build or clean, clothe, or feed those in need. Who go out on missions across town, across the state, across the country or across the world.  They build homes, clean yards or dig potatoes.

The church, are those who follow their faith, follow the teaching, follow their heart to do what faith instructs. To live in the right manner, to speak, to listen, to love as Jesus instructed. As Jesus did.

 The church are those who love, but do not judge. Knowing that loving the sinner  is not accepting the sin. Knowing, that others will not listen to one who is too busy casting judgement and hate, instead of acting in compassion and love.

 The church, are those who live, act, speak in faith every day. Who are not afraid to speak of their belief, without arrogance but in humility. They know where they were, they know how far they have come, they know Whose grace it is that has saved and forgiven them. They know, that they still struggle and stumble, and yet they know they are forgiven, when they ask and turn away from the sins they have committed.

The church, is not a building. A building, no matter how nice and well maintained, cannot bring one to salvation and a relationship with the Lord. A building is just that, a building. It is the people, the heart, the hope, the faith and the love they share. Those are the church.

Those are the church, that I have found, within the walls of a building. Those are the church who have accepted me, befriended me, taken care of me and my family and who have loved me, for who I am.

Wishes, Dreams and Resignation of the heart

Today, like for so many others, was my first day back at work after the Independence Day holiday. We had a week off. I'll be honest, I am glad to have a job, but there are times, I wish things were different.

When the alarm went off this morning I hit the snooze button, three times. I got away with that because I set the alarm to get me up two hours before I need to be up. I finally forced myself from the bed and into get ready mode. I went ahead this morning and got ready even down to packing my lunch rather than wait to the last minute which is my usual habit. I left the house early enough that I could take my time. I was in no hurry to go back.

 When I finally walked in the door of the plant it was almost a complete sensory overload. The smells were suffocating. I could smell the oils and other lubricants that are meant to keep the machines running smoothly. I smelled the different raw materials located around the area I walked. The smells of wool, cotton, acrylics and plastics all mingling together to the point of being over powering. The myriad of colors staged along the way should have been beautiful in my eyes like they usually are, but they weren't, not today.

 As I crossed the building to the department I work in my desires were to be anywhere but there. I did not want to be trapped inside those brick walls. I wanted to be outside, I wanted to be walking the trails around the lake, up and around Spencer Mountain or following a green way somewhere. I wanted the smells that I was experiencing to be the fresh earth, the vegetables from my garden, the flowers in my front yard, the woods behind my house.. anything but this.

I knew soon the machines would be started back up and the building would be filled with the sounds of many motors and other working parts. As one who works there, I know that is supposed to be a good sound. As someone who was wanting to be elsewhere, what I wanted to hear was not n the building but outside. I wanted to hear the bull frogs, the tree frogs and the crickets. I wanted to hear the various birds calling through the trees. I wanted to hear and to feel the wind blowing. I wanted to hear the water in the creek splashing over the rocks.

 I saw the colors of the materials, glow in the dark bright, but not what I wanted to see today. I wanted to see the green of my garden, spotted with the colors of vegetables ripening. I wanted to see the many flowers, planted and wild growing in my yard and surrounding area. I wanted to see the blue sky and the yellow of the flowers blooming where the pond water should be.

When the machines start I'll be helping get everything running as it should be. After a week down there will be machines that want to be cantankerous and not start easily. How I wished that I had other talents, that my photography was better and not so amateurish. That it was worthy of being published and that an agent would discover my abilities. In the photography or writing. How much desire is within my heart that my words were better, that they stirred more to action, to think, to feel. That some how I could find the strength, the belief, the way to make dreams happen.

Instead, responsible employee that I am, I took a deep breath, put away the wishes that things were different and went to work. The machines started, all but the two that decided that eight in the morning was too early to begin. Everyone went back to work, few complaints were made, resignation, its a sad state to be..

This could just be the year

                                       tilled and waiting.............from this.............
I've been trying for years to plant a garden and have it actually produce a decent harvest. Two years ago I had James till up the area over beside the house and I planted a garden. I had cucumbers out the ears.. but that was one vegetable and one year. I had a few squash and a few cherry tomato but nothing to write home about. Last year- my folks invited and I accepted and I got James to till up a garden down at their place. didn't even come close in cucumbers, but I did get a few squash, bell pepper and okra. I was still so very disappointed. In my mind, I was remembering my grandparent's gardens and the abundance of produce that would be harvested every summer. I knew I'd never come close to that, but I still wanted to produce enough that I thought Grandpa would be proud of me. That I had finally reached gardener status. that I had earned my green thumb.

                                       to this.. yes, I put plastic down to keep weeds down

My husband is a pessimist. Even though the plants had grown ginormous ( the squash plants are waist high) he didn't believe I would harvest much. I told him that the plants were covered in flowers but his response was that he didn't see anything. I got in trouble when I told him that the veggies weren't going to jump out from under the leaves and holler "BOO!!!! Here we are!" I don't know why he gets upset with me.

                                                   a treasure waits beneath those leaves

So far I've carried my little blue bucket down to the garden three times, and I've come back with vegetables every time. Tonight was the biggest harvest yet. I have enough squash to freeze or cook or can or take photos of. I've shared with mom and I shared some with a neighbor who was right here to help dad when he brought James back from having his wisdom teeth extracted and still drugged up he fell out of dad's truck. She helped dad get James safely into the house.
Anyway....
I'm looking at that bucket full of squash, zucchini and bell peppers and thinking "thank you Lord" and believing, that my Grandparents are looking down with a smile, a nod and a green thumbs up.








                                       the can of tomato paste is for scale..

Discoveries

Some know, that I grew up on this dirt road, in this very house. My memories of my youth are as close as right outside my door. While we were not among those that are called privileged, as far as material things, I believe that we were and are privileged in better ways. One of which was and is the freedom to roam the woods on our property and as youth exercise vivid imaginations or as adults find a wonderful stress relief.

 As a youth, I was always too busy playing to notice the flora and fauna of the woods. As an adult who returned to my home, I found myself more home bound and less into the woods. It was a bout with cancer that changed that. And even though that battle was seven years ago, and I am healthy now, the changes in my life that it brought about are still ongoing. I returned to the place of my youth, I returned to the woods and the discoveries there.
 The day the diagnoses was official, the first thing I did after breaking it to family, was to hit my beloved but long neglected, woods. I had walked as dad had built a small pond at the base of the hill, but the walks were mainly to the pond, a few laps around and back to the house.

 The walks now were a bit slower and more attuned to what was around me. I was looking for things that would take my focus off the health issues and onto something better, something beautiful. I was not disappointed as every day there was something new and different to be discovered. One of the amazing things was that, some of the plant life that I found, are only found in one or maybe two areas of the dirt road.

Every day I made different discoveries that brought that needed distraction and smile. Today, years down the road I still walk. Not every day as I did then, the distraction is not as badly needed, but life does tend to get stressful and the woods are the perfect place to find balance and peace. And there are still those things that I find in their one place, that reminds me that we each and all have a place, we each and all have a purpose, Our challenge is to find that place and take root and grow strong.

Have Mercy... Now I Understand

I can't, I simply can not get that sound out of my head.

I have a two year old German Shepherd Dog named Bella. I bring her in at night but she spends the day outside in our fenced yard. We live on a dirt road  in a rural area, our house sits literally in the woods. It is not unusual for us to have visitors in the back yard as it isn't fenced and I do have a tendency to toss leftovers down the hill. Many times I've heard the dogs barking at the sounds they hear telling them the raccoon or opossum have arrived in search of a free meal. Deer have a trail that runs just inside the wood line and goes from the main road all the way down to where it meets the dirt road a good half mile away. We've had visitors come around and sit on the outside of the fence teasing the dogs, knowing they were safe. Today, was a different story.

Around five this morning I fought with my alarm clock trying to get the thing to shut up. Dragging myself out of bed I grabbed my housecoat and made my way around the bed. Bella waited patiently for me to move the gate that insures she will stay in the room and not go into the kitchen and steal the cat's food,again. She beat me to the front door as usual and waited none too patiently for me to open the door. When I finally pushed the storm door open she shot out and into the yard, ready to seize the day. I on the other hand sleepily made my way to the coffee pot. I no sooner had cup in hand when I heard the strangest sound. To the best of my memory I had never heard a sound quite like that before so I moved to investigate.

It was still dark outside and with Bella being black she is almost impossible to see until she starts moving. Which is exactly what she was doing, and she was ever in a hurry. When she suddenly stopped I heard that sound again. It sounded exactly like something screaming. Not caring that I was barefoot and still in my nightgown I shoved the door open and went out onto the porch. Shouting at Bella she looked up which gave the victim a chance to make a run for it. Bella immediately again took chase. I quickly set my coffee cup down on the first flat surface and ran to see exactly what Bella was after. It was a young rabbit. Every time Bella caught up with the rabbit it screamed and I shouted. I knew the neighbors had to be hearing me but I didn't care. I grabbed for Bella, but I missed the first time and she kept after the rabbit. Several times I heard the poor thing scream, in fear, in pain, both probably. It was a horrible sound. I finally managed to grab Bella by her by the collar and get her inside the house. By this time the young rabbit was on the front porch and under a chair. As I went to catch it, the rabbit had moved behind a doghouse that sits on the porch. I pushed the dog house out of the way and gently put my hand on the rabbit. It flinched but didn't move away, it had nowhere to go anyway.

Lifting the rabbit I ever so gently stroked its back. It didn't fight with me, it didn't try to get away. That in itself was not a good sign but I carefully carried it across the yard and over to the edge of the woods. I was still in my night clothes but I didn't care. It was still dark, but even if it wasn't. I had just witnessed something I didn't want to see. I don't care if its nature's order of things. To me, my dog had just been a horrible bully to an innocent creature. I could only hope the rabbit would be okay but I doubted it.

I kept Bella in the house for almost an hour. When I finally let her back outside she went straight to where she last saw the rabbit. When I left for work, I glanced over to where I had placed the rabbit earlier. It had died as I feared it would. There were no external injuries so I don't know if it was due to internal injuries, fear or a little of both. I knew that I would bury it when I got home, because I couldn't do otherwise.

All day long, I heard that rabbit's screams. They can not be described any other way but screams. They were nothing less than the sounds of terror. Real terror, not the overly exaggerated sounds that you hear in the movies or the pseudo fear screams coming from those on some thrill ride at an amusement park. Those were the real thing, that were coming from a being who knew their very life was in danger, who felt the physical pain of being attacked. I heard it repeatedly as my dog chased it, I heard it over and over again during the day, knowing I was hearing the sounds of death. And there was nothing I could do. All day I hoped that those last few minutes were comforting as I gently stroked its back as I carried it from the yard. But I do now understand better, to a very tiny degree, how members of the military can be affected by their service. I can better understand the post traumatic stress brought on by hearing the screams of those who are hurt or dying. Brought on by witnessing the death of others, or causing it. Yes, I watched a rabbit, and those are people, I know there is a big difference. But just as the screams from a rabbit echoed in my head, how much more so most the screams of people echo in theirs.

Changes brought about by cancer

Changes faced..battles fought..battles won

The one thing that I never, ever expected that I would say, is that I am a cancer survivor.  I do not expect special treatment because of having gone through cancer. I do not want, or accept pity as there is no cause or call for it. Each day that passes I see people whose fight is much worse than mine was. I see, I read of or hear about their struggles and I know that I had it easy. But I had it. And because of that, I will never be the same.

   Before cancer, there was an innocence. You know you will have colds, even the flu and in a few days all goes back to normal. You know that you can stump your toe, bump and bruise, or get a splinter and when it is healed, all is normal again. That isn't exactly true with cancer. Not for me anyway. While I don't obsess over cancer, every year when it comes time for that annual mammogram I wonder. That small shiver of 'what if' crawls along my back and settles in that little spot in the back of my mind. You know its there, you know the possibility is there, but you can't let it get a hold and grow.

   Before cancer, I never thought too much about what I was eating. I had cut back on sodium intake - I thought. As far as anything else, there were no restrictions. I love junk food, I crave junk food in ways similar to an addict, because I am addicted to sugar. Guess what I discovered after cancer? That cancer feeds on sugar in all of its forms. My diet went from junk to healthier. No, I don't always eat healthy, but I try to maintain a more healthy diet than I did.  My diet is filled with more fruits and vegetables. I do cook more from scratch than I did before. I have discovered that it really does make a difference.

 Before cancer, my exercise was limited to walking from the chair to the bedroom. I did the household chores and my work is somewhat physical, but it wasn't enough of the right stuff. I will be honest n that I need to work more on this aspect of the changes, but I'm trying. I do, weather and time permitting, walk for an hour. Once the weather gets better I'm taking the dog and doing more hiking on some local trails. I may even actually try to get in the habit of running. I do need to incorporate strength training into the routine.

  Before cancer, I didn't think much about stress levels or how to lower them. Stress was and is, simply a fact of and a part of life. But the truth is, it doesn't have to be. I'm continually learning more and better ways to handle stress. Through the music I listen to, through the hobbies I enjoy, through the hikes behind the house, the list is endless in how one can ease the tension and stress in their life.

  Before cancer, my knowledge was very limited. I knew it was a disease. I knew that people suffered and died from it. But it was, other people, and not me. Since my personal battle with cancer I've learned a great deal. I have learned and I continue to learn.  I have learned I am stronger than I thought. I have learned the pain of losing loved ones to cancer. I have learned that cancer is non-discriminatory and doesn't care about age, race, sex, what you do for a living, whether you are a mother, father, sister, aunt.. I have learned that cancer is a cruel enemy and one that must be fought. It is the only way that we will stop losing people we love. It is the only way that we can put a real end to the suffering that people going through cancer endure.  I have learned how to eat better, exercise better, calm the stress. I have learned, but there are others who have yet to gain a better understanding. We need more and better ways to educate people so they too can be healthier. Without forcing them to change but giving them the understanding that would bring about a desire to change.

 It is my belief that the American Cancer Society is trying to do just that, but they do need funding. That is one of the reasons why I participate in Relay for Life. That is why I invite others to join us. That is why I ask for donations of time, talent, materials and yes, money. To help bring about changes that will in time, find a cure, better preventative measures, and better ways to fight, endure and win the battle.

You can join my team, make a donation or place an order for a luminaria here:  http://main.acsevents.org/goto/rebeccarevels

 Our Relay is May 9th at Common Grounds of Stanley. I hope to see you there..

We're off and running

So here we go.

 It is already the middle of January, usually by now we are well into our Relay for Life season. This year due to a variety of reasons we are off to a late start. That does not mean we are starting off slow. Once that gate lifted, we took off and there's no stopping us now.

 We had a 'town hall' type meeting which get us started. This was a meeting of the great and passionate minds that helped to lay the beginning of the foundation for this year. Those who were there were asked to consider being a part of the committee or to approach those they knew who might be interested.

 Changes to the way a Relay committee is structured, possible changes to the event itself, were discussed.

 Each of us also discussed our personal involvement with Relay for Life, how long we had been a part, why and what it was that we liked the most. There were so many passionate people at the meeting. Each had their favorite part of Relay, with their reasons being valid and strong.

 One of the main reasons for participating, we are all tired of losing people important to us, to this disease.  We've all been touched in some way, shape or form. We've lost family or watched family members fight. We've lost friends, neighbors, coworkers to cancer. We've watched their fight, we've been there for them when they needed us. We've offered support, cooked meals, given rides, sat with them so they wouldn't be alone. We've cried with them, held them, encouraged them.

  All the while we've cursed this disease and privately vowed to do everything with in our power to fight for those who can't, to work toward a funding for a cure, to remember those who have  gone on before us.

  We work because we believe. We believe that it is possible to find ways to prevent and to cure. We believe that we can help those who are fighting so to make their battle easier.

  Relay for Life is not just something we do to fill the time, for us, it is a lifestyle. One that will be a part of our lives until we are needed no more. We will fight until there is a cure.

  The gate has opened, we are on our way. There's plenty of room for more who share  this same passion. Together, we can do this. Together, we can make great strides to finding a cure...