Pam's Pollyanna

Please humor me. Tell me that someone out there remembers the movie in the 60ties, Pollyanna, starring Hayley Mills. I loved that show! I remember sitting in the theather as a little girl eating a pickle just crying my eyes out! Orphan Pollyanna Whittier goes to live with her wealthy but stern Aunt Polly. Pollyanna's philosophy of life centers on what she calls "The Glad Game," an optimistic attitude she learned from her father. No matter what, Pollyanna turned every bad incident into an opportunity to find the good. Must I tell you how it ends? Little Pollyanna falls out of a tree and becomes paralyzed, and even then, she finds the good in the tragedy: "At least I have legs!" she said.

Goodness, I was a Pollyanna freak. I LOVED HER!!!!

I used to have the doll Pollyanna. My best friend, Beth Watson, and I both had Pollyanna dolls. We would spend the night together and fix our doll's hair. I remember when Beth got the scissors and whacked off Pollyanna’s hair. Don’t know what happened to my doll. I MISS MY POLLYANNA!

This coming weekend I’m speaking at a conference and showing a clip from the movie. I was telling a friend of mine about my "long lost Pollyanna," and the next thing I knew, she had bought me an early Christmas present off of Ebay. I'm totally and completely ecstatic!

Here she is.... my little ancient Pollyanna doll, an almost 50 year old treasure!

OH! OH! OH!.... I’m beside myself.

The Stream's Ambiance

For me a Colorado stream summons a solitary call: a wooing of my spirit to grab pen and paper, plop myself on a rock amidst the luminous water and just listen…..

Listen…listen…listen…shhhhhh…Can’t you just feel the tranquil rush of the stream’s commanding invitation to retreat from the toils of your soul? John spoke of this cleansing release in John Chapter 7 - He who believes in Me from his innermost being shall flow rivers of living water.

How easy it is in our day-to-day schedules to remain trapped in the sounds of the urgent or the incessant whispers of disappointment. Yet Jesus’ comfort beckoned, “Just believe in Me.”

To believe is to rely on God’s character above your chaos and allow His presence to wash beneath you.

To believe is to rely on God’s faithfulness above your fears and allow His devotion to surge beside you.

To believe is to rely on God’s loving-kindness above your loss and allow His solace to flush through you.

Jesus – He’s my living water. I’m enraptured by the mystery of His river dance.

Roots and Wings: Pampa High School

I’m sure you’re familiar with that legendary anonymous quote, “There are but two things we give our children: roots and wings.” How true it is! Indeed, our children need roots, signifying a firm foundation, a definition of who they are and where they came from. And they need wings, the ability to leave the familiar and discover new horizons! But they’re not the only ones who need roots and wings; adults do, too. I discovered that a few weeks ago.

With great eagerness, I attended my 40th high school reunion: a return to West Texas, to a former oil booming town known as the “Home of the Pampa Harvesters!” What a tremendous joy to see classmates I had not seen in years and reminisce with comrades about the crazy things we used to do - (not to mention the attraction to new friends I found!) The weekend extravaganza actually affected me in ways I was not prepared! I left with a deep sense of appreciation from “whence I had come” and a renewed perspective of the journey the Lord had carved out for me since I left that Panhandle setting in 1970.

The Bible says that life is short! It’s like a tale that is told…bleep, then it’s over. It’s like a vapor, a puff of air; it’s like the wind that swishes by, or like a passing shadow. It’s swifter than a runner, or like a ship under a full sail. Any way you look at it, life on planet Earth is brief, but oh, what a somber sense of bliss to return to your roots, consider the days gone by, and just count the hidden blessings! They’re there, if you just look. I looked, and I found!

Pampa had changed, (well, of course, it had; it’d been 40 years!) but there were a few isolated monuments that let me know I was encapsulated in the hubbub of my upbringing. I drove by my child-rearing house at 2417 Duncan Street. The tiny tree in the front yard was now clustered in a grouping of multiple oaks. I visited the NE corner classroom of what used to be Robert E. Lee Jr. High, where my mother, Melba Martin, taught 7th grade English, and where I was a cheerleader and served as President of the Student Body along with my co-leader, Randy Marsh.

I witnessed the hamburger joint still highlighting main street, The Pak A Burger, a tiny business that still woos customers passing by. I observed Clements Cleaners, a business that had commanded respect on that corner lot for over sixty years, still gray in color and still welcoming people’s dirty laundry. I stood as an onlooker at The Coney Island, a hot dog shack beckoning a meal for hungry travelers; indeed, all of it, bringing into renewed focus the roots of where my mother and father, Moon and Melba Martin, trained Vicki, my sister, and me as children. I recognized the refurbished First Baptist Church, the place where I gave my heart to Christ when I was eight years old. Pampa, I love that town! It’s what America’s all about: hard-working people, a haven for family life, an incubator producing a healthy crop of folks.

To my fellow classmates that attended the reunion, I thoroughly loved matching names and faces and seeing that we had not all aged ‘that’ much! I found great delight in remembering the days when we gave each other high-fives in the halls of PHS, or celebrated the victory of a Friday night Harvester football bash, thanks to Coach Swede Lee and Coach Jim Cunningham. (And by the way, I have kept in very close contact with Jim and Gay Cunningham over the years!)

Unfortunately, I got to the reunion late, so I missed the ceremony of bagpipes displaying the somber salute for classmates that had deceased. I would have loved to have heard my dearest friend’s name honored: Debbie Veale. She was such a loyal friend, but especially during a dark time in my life between 1986-1990. In 1991 Debbie helped me move from Texas to Oklahoma when I married my second husband, Rich, and she witnessed our marriage ceremony on the bridge in my new backyard.

The reunion was very special to me, but perhaps my favorite part was the Sunday church service. Actually, it was more like a “Praise Jesus” concert, a celebration of His presence and activity in each of our hearts. Never have I enjoyed “church” as much as I loved hearing our classmate Dr. Jay Kosher present a wonderful message from God’s Word, preceded by Kathy Biggers Lewis bellowing forth heart-felt songs of adoration to the Lord. And yes, the class of 1970 can never have a gathering without Bobby Jeffers and his notorious band! What a fabulous morning!

Roots: mine came to life a few weeks ago in Pampa. But so did my “Wings.” I left with a determination to continue the good work that God had begun in me in that humble Texas community and a desire to persist in letting my wings mount up and finish this life strong, leaving behind a stunning legacy, one sprinkled with the affluence of God’s love and grace.

To my Pampa Harvester classmates, God bless you all, and may the Lord prosper each and every one of you until we meet again!

We’re the Best They’ll Ever Be; We’re the Class of ’70!

The Litmus Test of Love

Sometimes you have to get away from your normal routine, enjoy new scenery, and quieten your spirit for the BASICS in the Christian life to flourish into rejuvenated focus. Rich and I are in Aspen, Colorado, right now. Yesterday I was reawakened to this ancient truth: the litmus test of love is not The 10 Commandments but 1 Corinthians 13. Have you read it lately? Gotta ask myself some hard questions:

Is Pam
* long tempered or easily irritated?
* kind or short spirited?
* jealous or happy for others?
* thinking more of herself than she ought or humble?
* rude or gentle hearted?
* ill-mannered or courteous?
* easily provoked or patience when wronged?

Is Pam..
* resentful or quick to release a grudge?
* happy over others' failures or happy when others' succeed?
* quarrelsome or gentle
* defensive or a bearer of hardships?
* a believer of the best or a presumer of the worst?
* intolerant or long suffering?

Ouch! Good test. Like my 7th grade English teacher said, "If you don't pass the test the first time, you keep taking it until you do."

The Truth About Sex: What the World Won’t Tell You and God Wants you to Know – by Kay Arthur

I send out two monthly devotionals to women: one to ladies in general and one to single moms.

To the single moms: If you read this month's devotional about staying sexually pure, I wanted to give you an added resource of encouragement. From time to time I like to highlight a book. Here’s an excerpt from Kay Arthur’s book- The Truth About Sex: What the World Won’t Tell You and God Wants You to Know... and it includes a companion study guide for personal use or group discussion. So... take a peek at her first chapter and what it's about!

Chapter 1 - What’s the Big Deal About Sex?

Kay says, "Birds do it. Bees do it. And when you turn on the television, log on to the Internet, or watch a movie, you can’t help but notice that everyone else seems to be doing it, too. Our culture has embraced the message that sex is just a basic bodily function, as irresistible and harmless as satisfying your hunger or thirst. But is it? Or have we bought into a lie that is rapidly corroding our souls and our society? You can’t ignore the Manufacturer’s directions and escape unharmed."

Friends, I think this study might be a fabulous spiritual tool for you! Hope so!! Let me hear from you!

What Else Has Wings Besides Angels?

Anyone that knows me knows that my Bible is “my baby!” I have endeared her to me like a newborn wrapped in a pink fleece blanket. In it I have extensive journaling from the last 17 years. It’s an heirloom for my children with many tributes. For those of you who have heard me teach on personalizing your Bible, it all began with “that” Bible.

I even recall when Mother died. I clipped a piece of her hair and taped it by her favorite verse. Such artifacts assembled in that Holy Book make it inconceivably irreplaceable! It’s, indeed, my greatest physical earthly treasure! (other than relationships, of course!)

Well, I lost it! Somehow after the Survive ‘N’ Thrive conference in Oklahoma at Crossings Community Church, “she,” my baby, never made the trip home. Truly, I’ve been sick, just sick, ridiculously sick. Many of you have been praying for El Roi, the God who sees, to return it to me. All week, I’ve walked by the phone in the kitchen hoping to see the blinking signal with a message telling me that someone found it.

Tonight, as I strolled by the phone, the blinker was flashing. My heart raced as I played back the message, “Pam, we’ve found your Bible! It’s been located in the kitchen at Henderson Hills Church.”

Kitchen? How’d it get there? Are you serious? With a mixture of pure joy and shock, I hurried to reclaim it wondering, “How in the world did it get from Crossings Community to the kitchen at Henderson Hills?” I simply DO NOT KNOW!

Everyone says that God’s Word is a mystery… well, amen to that! Guess angels aren’t the only things that have wings. Apparently my Bible does, too!

So, I’ve laid down the law around here. My retrieved Bible will no longer leave this house. I’ve retired her for good, and I went one step farther. Today I bought a brand new Bible, complete with all kinds of highlighters in order to create “Bible Heirloom #2!”

Here’s my newest baby. This time it's a he. Won’t you welcome him to my world!

July 4th - For Me, It's Not What You Think!

July 4- Deliverance Day? What does that mean?

For most people, it primarily means Independence Day – America’s birthday. In July of 1776 Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence and the founders of the new nation considered that day an important occasion for rejoicing.

It was John Adams who said, “It ought to be commemorated as the day of freedom, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, bonfires, illuminations. Bells should ring and fireworks should fill the night sky. It’s Deliverance Day!”

It was July 4th, 1995, that Rich and I were on a vacation, and I received word that morning that my father would not live through the night. With record-breaking speed we made it back to his bedside around 10:00 pm. I recall the presence of THE ALMIGHTY in his room when I arrived. The cherry bombs, Roman candles and rocket stars were blasting songs of praise outside his window. Sounds of people’s voices in the parking lot were clapping waves of bravo after each firework extravaganza.

I sat on Daddy’s bed alone, with only me in the room, clutching him in my arms. I knew my father was about to see, face to face, the Master of the Universe, His Creator. With gentleness of heart and a somber song on my lips, I sang ever so gently Daddy’s favorite songs: Battle Hymn of the Republic and How Great Thou Art. I recall telling him in his state of comatose, “Daddy, here, let me get you all fixed up. You’re about to see Jesus, your Christ!” I shaved his rough-bearded face and doused him with cologne. I felt the abiding presence of God’s messengers that had been assigned to the foot of his bed: ANGELS!

I whispered words of celebration into his very soul: “Daddy, do you hear the crackles of giant- size sparklers in the air? Do you see the explosion of color in the sky? God's throwing you a welcome home party! He’s commemorating your day of freedom from the bonds of this earth and solemnizing your entrance into glory with pompous illuminations of red, white, and blue. It’s your BIG day!”

With tears trickling down my cheeks and with a twinkle in his eye that originated from an unconscious soul, we both agreed in an unspoken Father/Daughter covenant that for him, it was Deliverance Day – the breaking out of the domain of pain and suffering and the breaking through to the domain of the spectacular – His eternal abode of residential freedom forever!

July 4th – for me, it’s not a remembrance of the song, “America the Beautiful” (though she is!) or even the festive array of our nation’s flag raised high; rather, it’s the fabulous finale' of my father’s life – a man whose jovial nature will forever set off firecrackers in my own heart.

To my precious daddy, George Moon Martin, a WWII veteran in the Navy: Happy 4th of July, a day eternally marked as your graduation day!