The Power of Words

It was 1987 and on Christmas morning, between my Jem doll (she really was Truly Outrageous) and my Cabbage Patch Kid was a box with words so taboo now, they are hard to quote even for the sake of this article:  "Get in Shape, Girl:  A fitness program for today's young girl." Maybe you got one too.  A turquoise cassette tape that was just  barely  pre-Jock Jams, a jump rope, some light weights, and a gymnastics ribbon.  I loved it!  I'm not sure it affected my "shape," per se, since I really didn't have one at that time, but I can remember the feel of the breeze from the gymnastics ribbon whipping by my face even now.  I pretty much  was  Mary Lou Retton. And, as such, I needed legwarmers. My mother saw to it that I had some.  They were the absolute perfect accessory.  So, when I passed some cozy gray ones last winter at Target, they called out to me from my childhood, the way things do.  I tugged those babies on as s...

To Emmaus,  Top 5 reasons I think social distancing will make Emmaus more of a community than we were before.  The Hair - If 2PC were to put out a pamphlet with a description of every Sunday school class (or Grace Community or Life Group or whatever we call it), Emmaus would have words like ‘honest’ and ‘real’ and ‘raw’ in the description. We might even secretly pride ourselves on that, for better or worse. Today’s Zoom zoomed in on us and made our typical Sunday ‘realness' look massively gussied up. I absolutely loved seeing hairstyles that nobody had taken time to manage. It’s just one teeny tiny piece of the image that we are brushing away thanks to COVID-19.  The kids - Charlie Hurst dancing in a pillowcase by the kitchen table is a walking (no, dancing) answer to prayer many of us prayed! Kids make things more interesting. Always. The Turnage girls climbing on the back of the couch in order to listen to how God is working is Deuteronomy 6:6-7* in action, and ...

It was the smell of root beer brewing in the basement.  Or at least that’s what they told her.   My grandmother was young and she can still remember Central Gardens in the days of prohibition.  She, her mother, and her mother’s mother all lived at 1615 (as you know, real Midtowners call their homes by the house number).  1615 was just one block behind where I live now.  I wonder when the day will come where they tell us, or our children, that we can travel through time.  For now, living in Central Gardens scratches the itch.  My grandmother never has to paint a backdrop for her stories.  It’s exactly the same backdrop of the life I’m living now, almost 100 years later.  Every time my floors squeak, I’m reminded that someone has trod this path before me.  The night the Titanic sank, somebody was tossing and turning in my house.  Lindbergh’s flight was discussed among family members in these walls on the very day it happ...

It was the dog with the top hat on that caught my attention.  He didn’t seem to mind it.  He may have even  liked  it.  That’s how dogs are in midtown on a regular Tuesday, but on the Fourth of July, the dogs are running the show.   And what a show!  Central Gardens on the Fourth of July is just that.  If you’re asking yourself, “Who lives here?  Is it families?  Is it millennials?  What about empty nesters?  Or those older ladies who watch your house for you when you’re out of town?  Are there babies?  Will I feel awkward if I wear a top hat like that dog?”  Listen, you just come on and see.  There is no such thing as awkward in midtown and that’s what we all love about it.     Halloween in Central Gardens is magical.  Christmas is dazzling.  The spring is like a kiss from God and the fall is what you’re looking for in a pumpkin spice latte, but can never quite find.  But the ...

I was in the fetal position under the covers avoiding the day.  Why didn't home feel like home to me?  The rest of my family seemed to like it pretty well.  As a matter of fact, they loved it!  Why was it so hard for me to feel like this space was anything other than a workplace? Other people complimented us on our beautiful home and it had even been photographed before.  But over time, life had happened and stuff snuck in without our realizing it.  Everywhere I looked, I saw a project and because of this, relaxation was elusive.  Instead, tension took its place and when tension is inside, it inevitably will spill out.  The girls' closet needed to be cleaned out again.  Those trays that are supposed to organize the papers so beautifully were overflowing.  All the church crafts that actually make it from the van to the house were scattered about in pieces.  The laundry...every time I walked into the laundry room, I could feel...

Soon, very soon, a morning is going to come and it will bring with it something delightful. We will all wake up and before our eyes open to the world, we will sense a lightness of air. A clarity of atmosphere. It will be almost like Christmas morning is to the kiddies. We will rush downstairs to open the door because maybe, just maybe, while we were fast asleep, autumn will have arrived! I have three friends from New York and all three find fall depressing, and I find this fascinating. For them, it signifies short, dark days ahead. A cold so abrasive that it almost hurts. For me, down here where we are, nothing could be further from my experience. This particular summer has had me googling “Global warming” and “Climate change” like never before. My Spotify was tuned to the Vince Guaraldi Trio way too soon just as a coping mechanism, an “if you play it, it will come” way of looking at things.  While fall in the north may sometimes feel ominous, here in Memphis, it is as if...