Transition and Provision

A little more than 11 years ago I was sitting in this same place attempting to put on paper what thoughts were running through my mind.  At the time, I was a new mother with a precious baby at home to whom I wanted to devote EVERY moment loving, nurturing and teaching her all that I could possible squeeze into each day.  I had been employed by the Executive Board of the Tennessee Baptist Convention (TBC) since 1996, and they allowed me to slowly transition back into my full-time position.  While I was so very grateful, my heart and mind were at home with my new gift.  God answered my prayer in a very definitive way making it possible for me to resign my position at the TBC and assume my new role as a stay-at-home mom.

A little more than 7 years ago, life's challenges led me to a point where I would need to find employment outside my home, once again.  God had already been at work, just as He always is, and there was a position at TBC that I would eventually fill.  That part-time position would prove to be an eye-opening, God-sized reminder that He certainly wasn't through with me yet. 

Since that time, I have been allowed to experience so many different character-building moments among Christian brothers and sisters who have taken me under their wings.

Here I am again with a God-given opportunity to invest more of my time at home with both of my sweet girls.  In November, the TBC entrusted me to coordinate the first-ever Vendor Exhibit Hall.  Little did I know that God's plan would include more than just communicating with vendors and acting as their liaison.  COSCO & Associates, Inc., was one of those vendors and they began communicating with me regarding the possibility of joining their team.

In January, I was offered a position with them to work out of my home full-time...another reminder that God still isn't finished with me!  :)  After MUCH prayer, consideration, and counsel from friends and family, I decided to resign my position at the TBC, effective March 29, 2012, and will be joining the sales team of COSCO & Associates, Inc. April 1. 

COSCO & Associates, Inc. is a company which has specialized exclusively in the design and build of churches and church-related facilities across the country for over 43 years.  Their passion and calling is to assist churches in building church structures that will facilitate worship and make visions realities as well as sharing a common goal with the local church in the desire to build God’s Kingdom.  COSCO provides numerous, unique services to churches including no “up-front” money from the church and providing a GUARANTEED MAXIMUM PRICE CONTRACT once the design is completed. 

While I am excited to begin a new phase in my life, at the same time I will always be grateful and mindful of the TBC and all the ways my heart has been blessed...and the ways I have grown.  I am thankful a thousand times over for the opportunities I have had in serving the Lord alongside so many faithful servants.  The relationships I have built with church leaders across this state are invaluable to me.  I look forward to continuing those relationships, as well as buildnig new relationships and partnering with church leaders of all denominations across the country in building God's Kingdom.  Visit our website http://www.churchdesign.com/!

Stretch Armstrong

From very early in my life, I felt like it was my responsibility as a little sister to make sure I played with every toy my big brother ever got to the point of aggravating him as much as I possibly could.  Not only did I take my “responsibility” very seriously, I happened to like many of his toys much more than I did my own.   Many times I would play so rough with his toys, I would end up breaking something and he would get so angry with me!  J

Christmas 1979 was a present year for my brother that I will never forget!  He got a “Stretch Armstrong!”  For anyone not familiar with this nostalgic figure, I included his picture!  Now, to most, he would look like just some other Hulk Hogan type phenomena in a box, but Stretch was cooler than any WWF wrestler we could ever know…even Jake, “the Snake” (I will share my WWF knowledge with you another day, haha). 

Stretch Armstrong was a doll that was about 15 inches tall.  Wikipedia says that Stretch was made of “latex rubber, filled with gelled corn syrup.”  The fascination with him was that when you pulled on his arms and legs, he could stretch from his original size up to four or five feet!  Can you imagine how amazing that was?  I pulled and pulled at him trying to stretch him as far as I possibly could.  Yes, it was cool that he would “stretch” like that, but looking back, I really wanted to know what would happen if he was stretched farther than he could go.  More importantly, because there wasn’t an encyclopedia, like our Wikipedia, now, that would allow me to know exactly what was inside.  Plus, when I would pull and pull to make him bigger than myself, he would immediately begin to retract into his original 15 inch size and shape.

I was sitting in the Atlanta airport on Sunday during a 3-hour layover.  I was alone (of course, in theory, I wasn’t really alone, because that airport is ALWAYS full), but I was travelling without a companion.  I called my friend, Linda, to check in and just to chat.  I was a little emotional because of many factors and after listening to a few sniffs, Linda said something to me that I needed to hear.  “Isn’t it amazing how God STRETCHES us to show us how to depend on Him more?”  That question opened up a conversation that changed my tears of sadness and loneliness into a smile and a feeling that His arms were wrapped around me.

When we hung up, Stretch Armstrong came to my mind.  I would pull and pull on him trying to stretch him so far so he would burst open and I could finally see for myself what was inside!  It’s amazing to me how God stretches us WAY beyond ourselves, and it’s not a test for Him to see what we have inside, but it’s how He shows US what we have inside ourselves.  It’s how we learn to depend on Him to retract us into the shape that HE wants for us.  The fabulous thing about all of it is that if we stretch to the point that we break, He knows how to put us back together.  In fact, He does His best work when we’ve reached the end of ourselves. 

Stretch Armstrong’s arms would stretch up to 4 or 5 feet.  Jesus’ arms stretched out on a cross.  Stretch Armstrong had corn syrup running through his body.  I’ve got Jesus living in my heart.

We're Playing Bas-ket-ball, We Love that Bas-ket-ball

Both of my girls wanted to sign up to play basketball this year.  I had tried to hard not to influence them either way, so when they decided they wanted to play, I was ecstatic!  :)  While I had volunteered the past few years to coach, I had decided at the end of the last basketball season that retirement might be good for me.  Who would have thought that coaching recreation basketball could be so stressful...of course, when you tend to be competitive, stress is always a factor. 

Two weeks ago, Lauren's team was playing a strong team from a different community...somewhat of a rival community...a rival community since I was in the 2nd grade.  Watching from the stands would be a difficult task.  At the end of the first half, I only had about 2 nails left that I hadn't bitten.  As the third quarter began, I could feel the tension rising from the other side of the court where Lauren's coach was standing.  He had spent a lot of time, although no more than usual, yelling at the referees rather than keeping the girls' minds on the game.  While that is my opinion, the referees obviously agreed with me, as the next thing I knew, they were huddled around him and eventually escorting him out of the gym. 

Ever get that feeling inside that you HAVE to do something?  You know, like you feel as if everyone and everything around you becomes a blur and then a huge light comes on with a voice that says, "You better do something."  Okay, okay, maybe it's not that way for everyone, but suddenly, I felt like some unknown force was lifting me out of my seat and sending me over to take care of business.  Well, how could I argue with such a force?  In my high-heel, black boots, I began walking.  I passed the coach as he walked (aided by a couple of guys) out and politely asked him if he minded if I went and helped...as if he were going to change my mind.  :)  There were 7 pairs of eyes glued to me as I got my piece of paper out and told them what we were about to do.  They listened and rallied...it was like a new group of girls had hit the floor.

Over the course of the next week, changes took place.  The recreation officials contacted our community leaders and said, "I don't know who the woman was that came out of the stands to help, but we saw a whole new ballgame for the last quarter and a half." 

This past Saturday was my first game back as a coach, and I cannot begin to tell how invigorating it was to watch the team execute the new style of play they had learned in just a week.  What style is that?  It's a style that my Lady Patriot peeps still understand well, I'm sure.  In fact, I've seen Stephanie B. and Kelly L. enforcing that style this season with their own teams.  It's fundamentals...dribbling, shooting, passing (BOUNCE passes)...and my favorite, HUSTLE...making teamwork inevitable.   

You've Got to Give It Away

"He took me to people with gifts that I needed, gifts of healing, acceptance, and joy. They gave me their gifts to take on my journey, our journey, God’s and mine.

And we were off again. He said, “Give the gifts away. They’re extra baggage, too much weight.” So I did, to the people we met, and I found that in giving I received, and still our burden was light." (From a poem by an unknown author in my first blog entry, "The Bike Ride" )

Six years ago I became a single parent...on paper that is.  Two years prior, I realized my marriage was failing. For a while, all I could do was sit on the couch in my pajamas and stare, trying to figure out if I knew how to clean the house.  Although I joke a lot when I write, I'm being serious when I say that I couldn't figure out how to do the smallest chore. 

Several people stand out in my mind as rocks who gave me something to hold onto so as to keep me from drowning in that horrible, downward spiral that seemed so dark.  My pastor's wife, Debi, recognized my hurt and sadness and shared so many words of wisdom with me that I call to mind today.  My neighbors, Scott and Kelly, were my coaches.  Both my pastor's wife and my neighbors never hesitated to offer me gifts of healing, acceptance and joy.  Sometimes, they were in the form of words, sometimes tears, many times a hug and even though it was hard to come by, there was laughter. While now my neighbors are someone else's neighbors, every time I see them, I am blessed by their generous offerings of the same gifts, only now, there's a whole lot more laughter.

Going to work full-time was a challenge, because I had been at home being mommy for several years.  I had to brush off the bubbles and baby powder and jump back in to e-mails and earning a paycheck.  I was hired full-time in November and Aurie came to work in January.  She quickly became like a sister to me.  She, herself, had plenty of wisdom to share with me...many times it began, and still begins, with "My mama always said..."  God knew exactly what He was doing.  She offered me gifts of healing, acceptance and joy.  She never hesitates to share those gifts with me today. 

I am often amazed at the way God presents me with someone who needs me to share those same gifts with them.  I've been at gymnastics, at the community pool, at church, at work, at school, at the grocery store, and many, many other places, along with phone calls, when many times someone who barely knows me will share their story with me.  While often times I can't imagine why they would be coming to me, when it's all said and done, I realize it's that I've been given special gifts... of healing, acceptance and joy...and it's simply my turn and how could I hesitate to give them away...they are "extra baggage, too much weight.  I find in giving, I receive, and still, our burden is light." 

"And when I'm sure I can't do it any more, He just smiles and says, 'Pedal.'"

Snakes and Elves and Santa Claus' Tale...

In the past few years I have made it a habit to decorate for Christmas the weekend after Thanksgiving. This year, my intentions were the same, however, it just didn't happen. So, the girls were gone to their dad's last weekend and on Friday night, I decided to get everything out and begin. I would put up the tree and the girls would decorate when they got home on Sunday night. Of course, there were more things to do than just the tree, like decorating the mailbox, putting the lights on the shrubbery and putting other decorations in their place. All of my plans came to an abrupt halt, because evidently, I have had a very special (yes, I'm being sarcastic), unwelcome Christmas guest in the garage storage closet...a snake. I'm going to spare you the details of how I discovered this varmint. I will tell you, however, that I pulled the Christmas tree box out into the garage, left the light on (as if the critter needed it)and ran inside for my life. I was the lunatic in the 'ville the next morning pushing the box over and chasing the sections of the tree down my hilly driveway giving the snake one last chance to escape...THANK GOODNESS the snake wasn't in the box, in the tree or still around...COILED around anything

My girls, 10 and 8, had not been introduced to the "Christmas Elf" tradition until last year...which, at the same time, I lost what little sanity I had remaining. Our elves, Buddy and Rosie, will now arrive around December 1 every year and go home with Santa on his sleigh on Christmas Eve. In the meantime, they wreak havoc in our home...as if we didn't already have that. Those elves are the most mischievous little creatures I've ever met! Some of their shenanigans take me a while to clean up...like rolling the living room, making "snow angels" in the sugar, and drinking syrup and eating marshmallows leaving a trail all over the kitchen! I've been threatening to send them back early (because their helper is getting tired - wink, wink). Although, when I say I'm sending them back early, I see my youngest tear up because she LOVES this daily mystery of waking up to see what they've done. So, I suck it up and begin planning the next adventure.

Santa Claus. Yes, I have a 5th grader and a 3rd grader. They've heard at school that "Santa Claus isn't real." However, there's something about the sparkle I see in their eyes when they ask me if that's the truth and I ask,"What do you think?" I'm not sure if the sparkle is because it gives them something to add to their imagination, if they think I'm lying or if they think maybe I still believe and they don't want to ruin it for me.

At any rate, the conversation ends, both girls giggle and they play along with me. Last Sunday the girls were part of their children's choir Christmas presentations. They stood so boldly and sang their hearts out about peace, love, joy and adoration...of our Savior, Jesus Christ. Last week, I attended a Christmas Chapel service that stirred my heart and reminded me that in ALL circumstances - pain, hurt, loss, joy, love, and the list goes on - He is Emmanuel - God with us. Last night I got to sing with the church choir and orchestra in our Christmas presentation. Different choir members sang unforgettable lyrics that will ring in my ears for a very long time..."it's still a mystery to me, that the hands of God could be so small, how tiny fingers reaching in the night were the very hands that measured the sky." "Oh, I believe and I will always sing, this little child, is THE KING!" Finally, "Baby Jesus, do you know you'll die for all our sins...don't be afraid 'cause in three days...YOU WILL RISE AGAIN! Oh, HALLELUJAH! The KING is here!"

My girls love the decorations (a snake not so much), laugh about the elves, question the reality of Santa Claus, and all of those things put that innocent sparkle in their eyes. For those trivial happenings of Christmas, I have no good, solid answer. However, when we talk about Jesus, all of our eyes light up with hope, we KNOW He lives in our hearts and we all know that Christmas is about God sending His only Son to be the Savior of the world.

Snakes and Elves and Santa Claus' Tale...that's NOT what Christmas is made of! :)

Half 'n Half

How do you look at life? Is the glass half full or half empty? I am definitely a half-full kind of girl. Well, on most days. I’ve been a single mom for about 6 years now, and I try really hard NOT to be the stereotypical, “poor girl who has no help.” I don’t want to be lumped into the category with helpless people, but I do want to take a moment to vent on living what I am from now on going to fondly (tongue in cheek) call the “half ‘n half” life.

About 4 months ago I was carrying on with my busy schedule of working 8 hours a day, teaching piano in the evenings, driving the girls around to every gymnastics and dance class they could take, coaching cheerleading until time to coach basketball season, sleeping occasionally and folding clothes rarely. All the while, I was trying to continue to see the glass “half-full.” Then, one night as the girls were eating dinner at our kitchen table, the darkness set in. No, there is no dark cloud that hangs over our house and the piano didn’t mysteriously begin playing by itself…but the light bulb over the kitchen table blew. So, I did what most people would do when a light bulb blows – I changed it! Two weeks later, we found ourselves in the same situation in the kitchen eating dinner and the light bulb blew again. So, what did I do? Well, I changed the light bulb again, of course! I just thought I must have used a faulty light bulb. Two weeks later it happened again. Instead of coming to the conclusion that I shouldn’t prepare dinner anymore, I decided to go on a light bulb changing strike. Lori is such a great friend…she offered to send her fearless light bulb-changing hubby over to replace my light bulbs, and I thanked her and said, “Nah, it’s okay! I’ve decided to teach the girls about different cultures...Mennonites have no electricity in their homes!” To date, there are 5 light bulbs in our house that aren’t working. Three out of the 4 in the bonus room ceiling fan are gone, so that room will soon be dark. Our house is well on its way to being half lit!

Several months ago the girls and I were at home on one of those rare occasions when we had time to watch television. It was a Saturday evening and we thought we would watch a movie on Disney, you know, probably one of the High School Musicals. Much to our surprise our cable seemed to be out…or at least the screen said we had no signal. We worked and worked on the television, all the remotes and the dvd player, but still could only get the television, half of what we needed, to work. I went over and over in my mind knowing that I had certainly paid the cable bill, so I just chalked it up to technical difficulties. It puzzled me for weeks that we weren’t getting a signal! So, I decided one Saturday, probably 3 weeks later, that I should probably call Comcast. The technician did a “reset” while we were on the phone, but there was still no signal. Yes, I’m electronically challenged and that became evident to the Comcast tech on the phone. “Ms. Williams, have you checked to see if your television is on channel 3?” Why, OF COURSE it’s on channel 3…nobody changes that in this house. “Well, Ms. Williams, if you would please do check it. We have done everything we can to do a remote reset and it should be working.” Okay, so YES, for 3 weeks, I was thinking there was something wrong with the cable…hmmm, operator error. Light bulbs and cable…and don’t even get me started on weed eaters.

The girls and I were looking for a new church home. We had visited so many and one Sunday, in particular, we decided we would try a larger church less than 10 miles from home. We got ourselves ready in a hurry that morning. We would have to go into church a little late, but probably only during the first song of the service. The girls and I like to sit up front in church when we can, so it seemed only appropriate that we find seats at this church close to the front. I just knew that during the welcome time, we would shake hands with a ton of new people and it would be a great day of worship. However, I was disappointed. No one was overly friendly and I had trouble even getting a smile out of some of the other women who appeared to be my age. I just couldn’t figure it out…well, until I got home. The girls and I went home to change and go visit friends. When I walked in front of my mirror on the way to my closet, it dawned on me why we didn’t receive a warm welcome. I had gotten ready in the normal rushed, half-baked kind of way. I remember not being able to reach the back of my dress, and I remembered thinking I needed to ask the girls to help me. Hmmm, a half-zipped dress IS NOT a way to win friends or influence people.

Half ‘n half…how do you see your glass? Mine is not so much a half-full or half-empty attitude anymore. I’m just doing my best to keep all of the plates spinning and not appear to others as if I’m the helpless single mom who lives down the street. So, I’m thinking my half ‘n half life is more like an Arnold Palmer…half sweet tea, half lemonade…some days the lemonade is so sour makes me pucker and some days the tea gives me just the right amount of zip…yes, zipped all the way to the top!

"I see," said the blind woman!

To me, writing is therapy. If my blog were to get hacked, there would be a ton of entries that could be read that have never made it to the "published" stage...sometimes, because I can't finish it, other times because I might get sued if I publicly share my thoughts.


My grandmother, "Hi", as we called her (umm, that was my brother's fault), seemingly chose to do much of the same. While my writing is random, short stories of stupid stuff that happens to me, hers was of life, and many times death, through the eyes of a woman who couldn't see. Although, when my brother or I would explain something to her, she would sometimes say, "'I see,' said the blind woman."


As a child, Hi suffered from an illness that damaged her optical nerves and caused temporary blindness for about 6 weeks. She was home schooled during that time, but was able to return to the classroom once she regained her vision.

Hi went to Austin Peay and became a school teacher until she came to Nolensville one day, spotted my grandfather and decided he was going to be her husband. Yup, that's right, she saw him pumping gas at the Gulf station, looked at her cousin and said, "There's my husband." They married 10 weeks later.


My grandfather was a farmer (see my earlier post, entitled Overalls), so once my mom was born, Hi stayed home and took care of her new baby and the housework. Once my uncle was born 7 years later, dynamics at the Scales household changed. My grandmother, 32 years old, woke up in the recovery room completely blind...her sight never to return. A mother who suddenly couldn't see with a newborn would take time for adjustment. My mother was 7 and became my grandmother's eyes.


Hi was one of the smartest women I have ever known. When I had a geometry problem that I couldn't work, which was about every geometry problem, my grandmother could walk me through the answer. She kept up with politics, loved Vanderbilt basketball and loved to talk on the phone. She wrote poem after poem, some about her grandchildren that she loved dearly, some about life in general, but many about death. She remembered most EVERY poem that she had ever written and would recite them from time to time. When I was old enough to realize what she was saying, I couldn't understand why she would write about sadness. Now, I understand it...Hi used writing as therapy, too!

Still, until just a few months ago, it didn't really click with me why death seemed to be a common theme in much of her writing. I realize now that she could SEE so much more than I could ever imagine. She wasn't just writing about death...she was writing about HEAVEN! I remember waking my girls early in the morning on August 3, 2007 to tell them that Hi had gone to live with Jesus. My youngest, who was only 4 at the time, looked me in the eyes with a glimmer in her own and said, "Mommy, Hi can see!" Both of my girls were so sensitive to Hi's needs and obviously learned early on that Heaven is a place without sorrow or sickness.

I read Hi's poems with a different perspective these days. I read them with a longing for an eternal home where I will no longer have to deal with the trials of this world. Here's one of the poems I heard her recite most frequently:

What Lies Beyond

What lies beyond the sunrise
At the break of each new day?
Maybe another heartache
As I have to go my way.

What lies beyond noon's high sun
As it travels its blue path?
It might just cast a shadow
To dull the edge of God's wrath.

What lies beyond the sunset
As night come crawling in?
It hides many sorrows a
And covers many sins.

What lies beyond death's black veil
That saddens many souls?
There, many get just reward
And others attain their goals.

-Kathleen C. Scales 1923-2007

Hi was a smart, brave woman. She could see what lies beyond this world so much more clearly than most people I know. I think I, personally, can now use her phrase, '"I see,' said the blind woman."

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." Revelation 21:4