Teresa's Treasures

"Your word IS a lamp for my foot and light on my path." Psalm 119:105 CJB When I was meditating on what I was going to say today – thoughts centering around the words Your word IS -- I remembered two pieces of paper that are priceless to me. (Laura, if you’re reading this, none of them are from you, honey. But I want you to know you hold the most priceless. Don’t ever doubt that; I have an entire folder full of things you’ve written me.) Two paper napkins with words written on them from three very special people. Tonya wrote “I was thinking of you today as I picked these, and wanted you to have some.” -- a friend picking strawberries who brought them, because she thought of me that day. And on the other napkin is mine, Bo Reh’s and Ku Reh’s names, that I asked them to write in Burmese, Karenni and English, Sunday night when we took them out to eat at Mancino’s, after Home Bible Study. [Two boys come from Burmese refugee camps to America and we take them out to eat pizza and

Okay, so when I gave us the assignment to the Titus 2 group not to judge, not to condemn (based on Romans 8:1) I guess I didn’t have going to Wal Mart in mind and I really didn’t think about judging anybody except within the church, church to church and individual to individual. I really don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I thought it would be easy for me not to judge anyone while staying at home alone all day. :) Anyway, I had to go to the chiropractor today at 2:45, so I decided I would swing by Merle Norman afterwards and have a facial (free of charge, which I try to do once a week because my face is oiler than a teenagers), which meant I would have to leave my make-up off. It really doesn’t bother me not to wear any make-up as much as it bothers the people who have to look at me without any make-up on. Anyway, I called Merle Norman and it took Marilyn forever to answer the phone which told me she was extremely busy. She answered in a huff, telling me she had already done seven

This morning, before I ever got out of bed I heard the street sweeper as he started up our street. I knew it was him; I didn’t even have to see him, because he passes by regularly and I know his sound. He never yells and says “Look at me!” He never even sweeps at the same time of day. I just hear him when he sweeps this side of the street and when he sweeps that side. He sweeps and he sweeps consistently. He never honks and tells me to get up. He never trims the hedge. He never mows the lawn. He never paints the house. He never cleans the gutters. He never seals the driveway. He never dusts the house. He never vacuums the house. He never cleans the toilet. He never makes the bed. He never does the dishes. He never feeds the dog. He never cleans the bathtub. He never cleans the toilet. He never makes the bed. He never cooks an egg. He never does the laundry. He never takes out the trash. He never washes the windows. He never power washes the deck. He never plants the flowers. He never p

Friday night as I was carrying Bella to the car, like I have done many times, while carrying Bella to the car, I looked up and said, “Bella, look at the moon! Look up at the moon, honey.” Expecting her to say what she normally says, while carrying her to the car, I expected, “The moon. The moon, Mammie! The moon.” However what she said caught me completely by surprise. With clouds strategically placed over the moon’s face, horizontally, in two perfect places she looked up at Mr. Moon and said, "It’s broken." [Long pause and sadness] "It’s broken, Mammie.” And now looking at the moon through the innocence of a two year old's eyes, I looked up and, indeed saw why she thought the moon was broken. Still pondering what Bella had just said, thinking it was the sweetest comment I'd ever heard, Bella melted my heart again. “I fix it, Mammie. I fix it. I gotta fix it.” And Mammie said to the entire family in amazement, “Did you hear what Bella just said?” And I repeated w

He was entering the print shop as I was coming out. I said, “Hi Doc!” wondering if he would remember me, hoping that he would. “How are you?” I asked just to make small-talk and he answered, “Not too good.” Amazed that he had told me the truth but so glad he did, I asked him what was wrong again and he told me Peggy, his wife, was not well. Obviously, he wanted to talk about her so I listened as he told me more. He told me that his wife had Alzheimer’s disease and I told him my mom had dementia--that she couldn’t even walk from the couch to the bathroom and he told me he just wished Peggy could stand up. I felt bad for even talking about my moma when I could see he had such pain so I asked him where Peggy was and he told me a nursing home. I asked him which one and he told me Rosewood and even bragged on them for taking such good care of her. He said he thought it might just be because he had been a doctor, but then told me he had watched and they took equally good care of everyone. An

Tonight my granddaughter Bella and I were walking outside in Baker Brothers' (which I've eaten at now 4 times in 2 weeks) parking lot. We ran fast and looked at ourselves in the mirrored glass in the building right next door. I helped her jump up on the sidewalk and held her hands so she could jump back down again. We smelled the flowers in the two flower pots and looked at the thing you put your cigarette butts into that looks like a nose bulb. We went back down the sidewalk and put our noses and hands against the mirrored glass in the building next door. We laughed and laughed as we looked at each other. Then we turned around and saw the birds. There were LOTS of them sitting on the top of the big ladder thingy that holds several satellite dishes and the other stuff I'm not smart enough to know about. Anyway, as I hunkered down to get closer to her, she hunkered down to get closer to me. As she held her hands up high she said "Reach up, Mamie." "Reach up,

Two weeks ago my status on Facebook was “Teresa Kimbel’s face will be oily when she’s laying dead in the coffin.” And right below my status, I asked if anyone had any suggestions for make-up that was good for oily skin. Sharon Gass said she had more trouble with oil now than when she was a teenager and recommended Mary Kay. Jillian Jackson recommended Clinique. Oh how I hate having oily skin. To fight it I’ve used every kind of soap imaginable, every kind of make-up imaginable, and masked until I’m blue in the face (no pun intended). Anyway, even though I do hate having oily skin, oily skin has its benefits. I have no wrinkles. (No, I didn’t say that to rub it into anyone’s face; it just illustrates the point I’m trying to make). :) Paul tells us in Romans 8:28 that “WE [emphasis mine] know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” Do you think, as I have thought, that Paul must not have been thinking about me w

With lots of health issues going on right now (inability to sleep due to mega pain) I’ve spent lots of early mornings (3:00 a.m. – whenever a.m.) sitting in front of my computer in my office, which I think was originally intended for a baby’s room, just outside our bedroom door. It’s small and cozy and has everything in it anyone could ever want in an office including a bird that sits in hearing distance from my window. He, or she, and I have met quite frequently over the last few weeks and whether he or she has come to know me, I have definitely come to know him or her. I never knew that birds could be so chipper (or should I say chirper?) between the hours of 4:00 and 6:00 a.m. It’s unbelievable! Having developed quite the relationship with this bird over the past two or three weeks that I have, this little bird has taught me numerous lessons I will never forget, that impress upon me what a Christian should look like, sound like, think like and do. It’s from those early morning visit

“Forgive them, Father” “They know not what they do” He said, as they hurled insults Forgiving me too. His side was pierced His hands were nailed His blood was spilled His body assailed. As the sun stopped shining the curtain tore in two Jesus said, “I commit my Spirit, Father-- I commit it to you.” In the tomb they placed Him Where they thought he would stay Tightly wrapped in white linen On that Preparation Day "Where is my Lord?" Mary spoke from her heart To the tomb Sunday morning She came, while still dark. "Why among the dead, Do you search for the living?" "He is not here, Mary." My Jesus had risen! My life to gain His life to lose Would I be willing If I had to choose To die for another Whose sins were not mine? Would I have such compassion Be so loving and kind? How could a love, So perfect as His come from MY heart so stained and remiss? Never have I known love Like He showed me that day When he died on that cross Where my sins do now stay. Once b

Last night my granddaughter, Bella, and I were doing one of her favorite things, which is explore my car. It's something she wants to do everytime she comes to my house and last night was no different. She explored it twice--once with her Pappaw and once with her Mammie. (Yes, she calls me Mammie. I have no idea why. Didn't tell her to, but don't care.) Anyway, standing in the driver's seat, which is where she loves to stand, she pushed every button in the entire car, moved every mirror, pushed open this little glove-box thingy I don't know the name to. (I just know it holds stuff like an old set of keys that has mace on it, preferred customer cards that I no longer use from places like Stein Mart and CVS Drugstore, old sweet and low packets, my ipod and card that I use when I go to Parks & Rec., etc. and the mailbox key I use everyday.) Each one of these she hands me, one at a time, everytime we explore the car. I proceed to hand them back to her and she retur

My husband, Phil had a trial this week that he had prepared for for weeks. It would be life-changing for his client and a battle for Phil. He anticipated a fight. I anticipated the verdict. At 6:50 on Wednesday night Phil called to tell me it didn’t look like he would make it to church, for me to get someone else to help me teach, since we teach a class together and he wouldn’t be there. I said okay, that I wanted him to call me, even during class, if the verdict came in. The call never came during class. The call never came for hours. But, in the meantime, let me tell you what I did. I took the phone with me everywhere I went because I didn’t want to miss it. I carried it in the pocket of my sweatshirt, in the kitchen, in the bedroom, in the den and even in the bathroom. I carried it with me everywhere I went so I wouldn’t miss his voice. As I was SITTING ON THE COMMODE thinking how important this call was and so anxiously awaiting it, it occurred to me that this is how I OU