What are you doing "New Year's Eve'?

 I sing that song every year.

So I finally googled it.  It's an Ella Fitzgerald song that is really asking for companionship on the night that is "out with the old and in with the new".

I suppose it's a love song of sorts.

There's a superstition that says you'll do whatever matters most for the rest of the year - based on what you are doing at midnight.  That's pretty boring in my case.  I'll be asleep.  Unless the noisemakers wake me up and turn the television back on to see the ball drop.

We did not grow up with parents who celebrated New Year's Eve.  That is, unless you went to a church watchnight service.  Mother probably wanted to go, and Daddy wasn't the least bit interested.

And then I married a preacher, and the traditional "watchnight" service became a regular part of our routine.

Forty-three years have passed since I was a preacher's wife. And I can honestly say, the watchnight service is not something that I miss!  

However, I still understand the concept.  Especially because one of my favorite portions of scripture is Philippians 3:13,14 -   “forgetting those things which are behind. . . “.

2025 included some big changes for me.  I said goodbye to my position as Volunteer Coordinator at the Mandarin Museum & Historical Society, a role I had held for 10 years. I also got a new grandson when Troy Craven married my granddaughter, Grace, and my name is on the spine of a book.  An additional plus is that my personal budget is balanced.

“. . . I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.”

Really, my life is good.

So what am I doing New Year's Eve?  'Putting Christmas away; soaking the peas for tomorrow; preparing a quiet dinner for two and thinking and planning for the months ahead and endeavoring to practice "letting the day come to me."

If you think being a planner and learning to let the day come to me is an oxymoron, try walking in my shoes.  My "salvation" in this is that I truly am pressing toward the mark. . ." As I write this, the song my daddy lived by reminds me of what is truly important: Living by Faith.

So on New Year's Eve, I suppose I'm developing a plan...to press on....by Faith...grateful for friends - and companionship!  And making an effort to “let the day come to me.”

May you have enough sunshine in your life to help you appreciate the shadows

I Believe in Santa Claus

It is the fourth Sunday of Advent.  The candle of LOVE is burning.

As I have done throughout Advent, I've endeavored to keep the "word" of the week  - Hope, Peace, Joy and now Love  in front of me.  I've listened to quotes, songs, and tried to remember experiences that focused on love.

The first quote is easy,

 "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son. . .".That's Christmas in a nutshell.

Christmas is all about love - Perfect love.

And it’s about traditions.

Christmas was always important to our family.  Daddy’s parents did not have much money.  They always went out on Christmas Eve to do their shopping because stores had items marked down.  That carried over into adulthood for Daddy.  He wanted to go buy one more thing on Christmas Eve.

Mother’s parents always had fruit and nuts in their stockings, so we got... you guessed it, fruit and nuts

Mother told us that when she was a child, she just knew she could hear Santa on the roof.  

However, she did not want us to believe in Santa Claus.  And yet, there were always unwrapped gifts under the tree.  And we left a snack of cheese and crackers and a Coke for Santa (our daddy’s preference).  We didn’t believe in the Easter Bunny (but we always had an Easter basket).  Nor did we believe in the tooth fairy.  But that did not prevent us from leaving a tooth under our pillow. So none of us is irritated that we didn’t get to “believe in Santa Claus”.

We learned that Santa Claus is the spirit of giving, and that we give presents to show family and friends that we love them. And somehow we believed - at least in the Spirit of Christmas.

When Cindy and I had children, Daddy humored us by dressing up as Santa Claus.  In 1977, Mother, Daddy, Cindy, Robert, and their children came to see us in Chattanooga.  The first four Huffingham grandchildren are hiding Santa, but I promise you that it is their Granddaddy.  

As the grands grew up, they came to love and appreciate Santa and Mrs. Claus.  They truly were a picture of love. 

So, Advent comes to a close and the candle of love is lit, I believe in Santa Claus...because I believe in love!

May you have enough sunshine in your life to help you appreciate the shadows

 

Joy

Today, we light the candle of joy.

"Do not grieve, for the JOY of the Lord is your strength." Nehemiah 8:10

Those were the first words I read when I opened Facebook this morning.  They followed these words:

"Today, my beautiful, giving, loving mom went to be wth the Lord." These are the words of Kimberly Gilmore Bryant.  There is a beautiful photograph of Jean Gilmore, a friend and fellow servant of Christ whom I've known for more than 20 years.

My memories of Jean and her family are very dear to me.

I watched the way Jean and Nolan cared for their family and supported the ministries of the Episcopal Church of Our Saviour.  I always appreciated her sweet voice when she read the Scripture.  She and Nolan were such a great pair.

Once we worked on an event together.  I sent an email thanking the team.  For some reason, I did not copy her.  She saw me a couple of Sundays later and said she had not received a thank you.  She was looking for it in the US Mail. Since she had not receieved one, she feared I had not thanked anyone.  I learnd my lesson .

Jean often told me that she had a bag of clothes for me.  Once it was a red dress.  That dress did not work for me, but I had it shortened to become a blazer that I enjoyed for many years.

She kept hoping I was going to meet Mr Right, and when I introduced her to my boyfriend, her response was "I told you he was  out there".  

And now, Jean Gilmore has gone on to be with the Lord whom she so faithfully served.

She was truly a person of JOY - she practiced Jesus, Others, You!

I love what one of our friends wrote to Jean's family - "Bask in the love and care of your friends".  We will love and care for the Gilmores - because Jean was the epitome of doing just that.   

This is dedicated to Jean - with much love to Nolan, Kim and the rest of the Gilmore family.

May you have enough sunshine in your life to help you appreciate the shadows

"Let there be peace on earth"

We lit the second candle of Advent this weekend.  It is the PEACE candle. 

My typical modus operandi, a few days before lighting the candle of the week, is to let the word we are concentrating on ruminate. I look for songs, scriptures, and times in my life that include the word or bring it to mind.  And usually I end up singing the music (as I did last week with Dusty Springfield's "Wishin' and Hopin'").

So, as you might guess, this week I've been singing the oft-used, "Let there be peace on earth", written in 1955 by Jill Jackson Miller (1913-1995) and Sy Miller. (1908-1971).  I googled the song and found that Jill Jackson was a film star whose life had been one of struggles.  After her first marriage ended in divorce, she contemplated suicide. Fortunately, she experienced a spiritual awakening that she described as the tie that connected her to God's unconditional love and to the realization that she was on earth for a reason. She married Miller, and they co-wrote the song, which has now become almost a Christmas carol.  At least, we hear it often at Christmas.

"Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me".

Peace

"For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." Isaiah 9:7

This week I have also been thinking of some friends who are struggling to find peace: one had recently fallen in love and her beloved lost his life to cancer; another looked so forward to the birth of her first great grandchild, only to hear the sweet baby girl is in Heaven, rather than her granddaughter's arms, and still another is having such difficulty understnading why her children left her in a lovely nursing home.

And I, always the 'Mary Sunshine', can glibly say, "God has a plan." knowing full well the unrest that comes to a single mother at Christmas, the sadness when the love of your life dies a month before Christmas and the empty feeling in the halls of a "not so lovely" nursing home where an old friend is alone except for my occaisional visits.

Each week during Advent, my friend Joe and I read a Scripture verse and a prayer as we light an Advent Candle. This was our prayer for Advent Two.

"Heavenly Father, You are the God who gives peace. May your peace fill our hearts and our world. Help us to be peacemakers in our relationships and communities".  

Which made my mind go to:  Make me a channel of your peace (the prayer of St. Francis of Assisi) and especially these words:

Make me a channel of your peace; Where there's despair in life, let me bring hope. Where there is darkness, only light And where there's sadness, ever joy.

So I have a plan of action. I'm praying for opportunities to offer peace to those who are seeking it (some might not even know the source of their unrest), hope to those who have seemed to have none left, and joy - That's next week's candle.

May you have enough sunshine in your life to help you appreciate the shadows

Wishin' and Hopin'

Advent.

That's the current season in the Church and even in the marketplace.

I did not grow up in a liturgical church. Today, that seems strange to me because Glendale Community Church is an outgrowth of Love Grove Methodist Church.  It's odd to me that the Glendale founders did not bring Advent with them. 

Note: if you don't know what I mean by a liturgical church, it is a church that follows a customary public ritual of worship, or the Liturgy.  In a way, it's a call-and-response activity that reflects praise, thanksgiving, remembrance, supplication, or repentance.  Most importantly, it is an opportunity to express one's relationship with God.

And if your next question is, "What is Advent?" It is a season observed in most Christian denominations as a time of waiting and preparation for both the celebration of Jesus's birth at Christmas and the return of Christ at the Second Coming. And it is the beginning of the church year.

Advent begins four Sundays before Christmas.  Each week, there is the lighting of a candle. There are five candles (either purple or blue), each recognizing a principle to follow: Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love. In the center of the wreath is a white candle, its flame unlit until Christmas Day.   

So with that little teaching opportunity behind me.

This year's first Sunday of Advent was November 30. I thought of this over the weekend, but here I am on Monday, December 1, 2025, endeavoring to get my thoughts into words, sentences, paragraphs, and this blog.

My initial exposure to Advent was in the mid-80s when my children and I worshipped at the University Blvd. Church of the Nazarene.  That was the first time I witnessed a family light a candle, read from Scripture, and offer a prayer.  For a long time, I was a bit resentful -- always a mother, dad, and children.  My family did not have a dad, but we were indeed a family.  I am happy to say that by this time in my life, I often see family represented in different ways.

I suppose my resentment was rooted in the fact that I was 'wishin and hopin' that someday I would once again be a part of a traditional family

.

While that did not happen, I am happy to say that all three of my children have that kind of family. That's what I was most thankful for this past Thursday when we celebrated Thanksgiving.

But am I still wishin' and hopin'?  Do I wish for anything?  Not really.  Do I have hopes and dreams?  Sure.

 

And about what I consider the commercialization of Advent.  It's certainly out there.  I asked for Advent gifts on Amazon and found about 50 suggestions per page, totaling more than seven pages.  I'm not going to Bah Humbug that, because I believe that anything that can turn one's thoughts toward what the Church represents -- especially Peace, Joy, Love, and Christ-- is a good thing!

May you have enough sunshine in your life                                                                                 to help you appreciate the shadows

Connections

Have you ever played a game called "Connect 4"?

I have not.

That is because I have absolutely no coordination when it comes to games that require the use of arms and legs. I do, however, really like the word "connections."  And I play the New York Times Game, Connections every day.

I really like it when people, places, or things "connect".

This print is hanging in my living room.

It came to me via the Silent Auction at the annual Mandarin Museum & Historical Society Fundraiser.

And it will be a constant reminder of the way our lives connect, even though many years have passed.

In 1986, my eldest child, Becca, started high school.  She had always been a good student, especially in math.  Her Algebra II teacher was Jane Cooksey.  She was a wonderful encouragement to Becca and I think remains one of Becca's favorites, and perhaps one of the reasons she went on to become a teacher.

I met Jane and her husband, Bryan, when I began attending the Episcopal Church of Our Saviour.  They became very dear to me.

When I met Joe Walsh, I learned that his mother, Mary, had encouraged Jane Cooksey to teach full-time when her children were in school at St. Joseph's, where Mrs. Walsh was the principal.  That's the same Jane Cooksey who taught Becca Algebra.

By now, John Cooksey and his wife, Leyda, are friends.  At the fundraiser, I learned that this print had hung in his parents' dining room and he had donated it for the Silent Auction.

And so it is.

But there's more.

It is a C. Ford Riley print.  I knew Ford's dad, Clayton, when he frequently visited the Here's Life Jacksonville office while I worked there as a secretary from 1982 to 1987.

This past Saturday, I attended a writer's workshop.  I was curious about other writers who might be there.  I was delighted to be with a 1960s Englewood teacher, a friend from Youth For Christ, and another who was a member of Seekers, the ministry for single adults I appreciated in the late 80s and early 90s.

I also met the daughter of Jody Brandenberg, who was instrumental in making Hardage-Giddens the funeral home it is today.  I still hope to work for Hardage before my employment days are over.

This concept illustrates that almost everyone we meet will likely have a connection to someone we know (or have known), and sometimes we will meet someone who can help us in the future.  It pays to mind our p's and q's.  

Hum - maybe we could help someone like that as well.

   May you have enough sunshine in your life,  to help you appreciate the shadows

Daddy's Shepherd

16 years!

It was 16 years ago today that we stood by daddy's bedside -- knowing he would soon take his last breath. 

After battling Myelodysplastic Syndrome for seven years, he had chosen to no longer receive the blood of a donor.  He had told my son, Tray, that he had been hearing about Heaven his whole life and was anxious to see it for himself.  

He also wanted to see his Shepherd.

And so it was that we were now awaiting that - 

Father John Palarine had prayed and thanked the Lord for the life daddy had lived and the loving care he had given our mother and us - and our children and theirs.

And then Rev. Kevin Pound prayed- His words reflected daddy's favorite portion of Scripture, and he personalized them, saying that he knew the Lord is Earl's Shepherd, that Earl knew he lacked nothing, that there was a place for Earl at the table - and that Earl was on the way to live in the house of the Lord forever.

I had often read about people dying.  Our family had stood around the bedside when daddy's brother, Ted, died in 1985.  I had not been sure about how I would take it when it was my daddy.  In fact, I had told him I didn't want to be there.  I was sure I would not know what to do.  Fortunately, the wonderful Hospice staff had helped me prepare, and although I was heartbroken, I was ready.

I don't think I've ever really gotten over daddy's passing, or mother's, for that matter.  I know that to be true because I talk about both of them ALL THE TIME.  I'm sure those I  spend time with wonder if I will ever not have a story about Earl the Pearl or Iva Lou.

However, I do believe in Heaven, and I know that both of my parents are there, along with the Shepherd.

A few weeks ago, after almost 24 years of knowing that cancer was a part of his body, my dear friend, Ron Allen, took his last breath.  A short time later, Ron's wife, Bonnie, who has been my close friend since childhood, brought me this photo.  Ron loved going into the homes of shut-ins to play and sing.  The date on the photo is August 22, 2009. It's a little hard to see, but on the table by daddy is a shepherd.

I used that photo in a Facebook post when I was remembering Ron's life.  And, as it sometimes happens with a computer, the image occasionally appears on my homescreen.  It makes me smile.  

Because I know that daddy - and mother - and so many of my loved ones who have now gone to Heaven - are there with their Shepherd.

             May you have enough sunshine in your life,  to help you appreciate the shadows

Note: The Huffingham family appreciates those who are blood donors.  Once, daddy saw a note on a car in the church parking lot that indicated a blood donor owned that vehicle.  He waited to see the person so that he could personally thank her, and she became a friend.  I'm sorry, I don't know the person's name, so I can't express our thanks. If you are a blood donor, please know othat you are appreciated.