manrymission.com

note: Found this sitting in the draft’s folder this morning. It is from the 2013 Easter Drama at Oasis of Love Fellowship Church, Natchitoches, LA.

Christina’s monologue:

httpv://youtu.be/Vh7QQni0SzY

Empty Tomb – Autumn and Tommy

httpv://youtu.be/5PiS3LvIDi8

The New Life Community Church annual picnic took place last Saturday at Denise and Bob Dixon’s home in rural Stafford. Denise and Bob have hosted the picnic for many years. The exception was the year the derecho lifted a glass table and shattered it in their pool on the night before the 2012 picnic.

Our church loves its traditions and maintains them with diehard fervency. (Picnic, Campout, Christmas Party…) One time visitors, relatives, and neighbors often join the festivities. Denise is extremely hospitable and invites one and all to join us.

Last year, when I was gifted with 5 zucchini from my neighbor and complained about it, Denise chastised me for not giving her some. This year, I was gifted with 4 zucchini plants from my neighbor and I plan to give Denise every zucchini they produce. The beginning photo shows her holding this year’s first zucchini. We’ll see if she’s still smiling when I hand her the 50th one.

For the first time ever, Dale and I reigned as cornhole champions. We’re not sure how it happened, and figuring it would never happen again, we declared ourselves retired after our string of victories.

Ryan was in charge of games this year, and when he wasn’t keeping watch over either RJ or the box turtle he found, he was passing out unbreakable eggs and tying balloons to ankles.

As usual, Bob and his dogs had to work during the entire party. At 1800, he declared the party officially over, but nobody left. Mark said we wouldn’t take him seriously until he declared he was going to bed.

My one prayer (each year) prior to the picnic is that I wouldn’t be so blazing hot. God must have stored up my 6 years of prayer, because this picnic was quite pleasant and we even had a cooling rain shower in the middle. I was perfectly content, cool and comfortable until my naughty children drenched me with super-soakers and buckets of water from the pool. I went home dripping wet and shivering.

Sometimes, answers to prayer arrive in an unexpected package.

In the midst of Abby’s hoopla, Gabe finished 8th grade. In many schools, completion of 8th grade is not marked by a significant ceremony. FCS, however, hosts an 8th grade banquet.

Graduating from 8th grade is very significant to my dad. When he was growing up, many kids did not continue schooling beyond 8th grade.

After my dad graduated from 8th grade, he got in trouble with his friends, and ran away from home. He never finished high school, so 8th grade graduation is a moment of pride for him. Dad eventually achieved a GED and joined the Air Force where he met Mom. He spent his life laboring as an iron worker and made sure all five of his children graduated from college. “Go to college. You don’t want to spend your life digging a ditch,” he still says.

Dad was unable to attend Gabe’s banquet, so he sent Gabe something special to wear – a top hat.

The top hat was the hit of the night. Gabe has no qualms about standing out in a crowd.

The next day at Abby’s graduation party, Gabe was the cotton candy man wearing a musical tie and my dad’s German hat.

Once, I had someone ask me, “Why, after having both a son and a daughter did you have more children?”

I answered, “If I hadn’t had any more children, there would be no Gabe in this world, and what would the world do without Gabe?”

httpv://youtu.be/TyqDpH1TxJA

Here are the roses that showed up late to the party. These roses are primarily hybrid tea and floribunda. They took the hardest hit from the long, cold, snowy winter, and therefore bloomed later.

Roses come in a myriad of categories and types. It has taken me 7 years to figure them out. However, I still cannot stroll through a public rose garden and say, “She’s a rambler, she’s a gallica, she’s a hybrid musk,” etc.

It’s all very confusing and many rosarians are vehemently loyal to the type of roses they grow: old garden roses vs english roses; once bloomers vs. perpetuals; budded roses vs. own root; single petaled vs. double petaled; sprayed roses vs organic roses…

Last week, I heard an interview with a rosarian who said he chooses roses that have charm. I liked his criteria, because what charms one person may not charm another.

Charm sounds better than “I like that one.”

The roses that survive in my garden are those that can overcome winter, insects, and disease with my minimal effort of pruning, fertilizing, and deadheading. The most time consuming task of rose care is watering. The clever individuals who put in irrigation systems save themselves my endless hours of hose dragging.

(For our anniversary, Dale bought me a new hose – as seen on T.V. – I broke it the second time I used it. Our hoses are extremely heavy because they are built to withstand much abuse.)

Dale has been buying me rose plants for all the years we have lived in Virginia. He likes to give me odd roses with stripes and garish colors. They are roses that clash with others and it is always a challenge for me to figure out where I can put them so they do not hurt my eyes.

Fourth of July was his first successful rose gift. It lives by the front porch and is my most photographed rose. With its red, white, and sometimes yellow toned stripes, each blossom is unique. After seven years of growth, it is finally climbing the porch rail.

Cinco de Mayo was his second successful rose gift. I have had it for 3+ years. Its color varies between lavender smoke and rust red. It clashes with everything. It is my second most photographed rose. I never know what variation of color the blossom will have.

His latest successful rose gift is Just Joey. He bought it for me this year, so I don’t know yet if it will survive long term. It is the fifth rose pictured here. I could not capture the color well. It is the color of orange sherbet. The two blooms it has produced were so pretty, I had to cut them and bring them in so I could sit and admire them. (It’s 95 degrees outside and I refuse to work in the garden when the temperature is above 90 degrees. Last night, I watered the garden in the dark.)

My favorite type of roses are heavily scented, multi-petaled pink old garden roses, but my husband somehow manages to find other roses that charm me. I really shouldn’t find it surprising. After all, he has been charming me for nearly 29 years.