I remember waking on a cold Fall morning to the sound of symphonic rain on a tin roof. Long before there were weighted blankets, there were Momma’s hand-made quilts piled high in a frosty room. Oh, how I wanted to just lay there for just a little longer, but the ruler of my mornings had already sounded the getup alarm once before, “Harry, it’s time to get up!”. Continue reading “Momma’s Biscuits”
Young Mary was from an obscure place and from a common family, yet God had a plan for her life that would be filled with greatness and personal pain. Many people are looking for significance in life and often try to find it in the wrong place and in the wrong way.
(Pictured is my mother, Frances Amelia Lee Whitt at the age of 16, soon after she married my Daddy on December 13, 1936.)
A debate has gone on in the world about when life begins. There is no doubt in my mind that it begins at conception. In a spiritual sense, it began before the beginning of the world. The one verse that draws water from this depth of mystery is Ephesians 1:4 (NKJV), “Just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love” (Ephesians 1:4 NKJV). Continue reading “Mother: Our First Touch of God”
Every good southern, country boy calls his mother “Momma”. Our city cousins might call their mother “Mom” but Momma just seems right to us. The sound of Momma conjures up thoughts of home cooked meals late in the afternoon, warm quilts on cold nights, and big hugs at hellos and goodbyes that would almost crack a rib.