Turkish coffee and a garden of Mums

I've been really surprised that I've stuck to my routine studying in the midst of visiting my family in North Carolina.  Somewhere between long walks down country roads and constant conversation with loved ones, I've managed to carve out at least a couple of hours a day to sip coffee and prepare for boards.  And at this pace, its really quite enjoyable.  I'm a firm believer that God's plan was for us to avoid idle hands and idle minds.  This morning, I had the treat of studying at a Turkish bakery near my parents' home.  Turkish coffee and an overcast morning make for the perfect study-sphere!  Better yet, I picked up Turkish cake for game night tonight! mmhmm...

After leaving the bakery, I stopped by the nursery to pick up some potted mums.  My grandmother's yard was once known from Virginia to South Carolina.  She swears (and so does my mom) that people would drive hours to see her rose garden on sunday afternoons back in the 60s.  And I believe it.  As soon as we sat down on the front porch, her normally still hands picked up where they left off years ago.  She went straight to business, correcting my mistakes along the way--not verbally, rather simply working behind me changing the amount of soil and giving the plants more room.  She doesn't have a green thumb...its a multi-colored thumb!  She is a colorful woman and one that I will be forever inspired by.

The planting process seemed to be effective in improving her memory recall; I may have written about it before, but for those who do not know, my grandmother has advanced Alzheimer's/dementia and lucidity is not an everyday occurrence.  Today as she planted she spoke to me about family members and things she did as a young woman.  She spoke a good deal about her life lately.  She pointed to a bird wind-chime that hangs on her porch.  She said, "Every morning, I go up to that bird, touch it, and think of Jesus."  I told her that birds make me think of the Holy Spirit.  And she said "And who does the Holy Spirit always point to?...Jesus!"And then she chuckled her funny little chuckle.

This is true, grandma, this is true.

We sipped our cold drinks from tiny glasses and she continued to speaks words of life.  She said that she prays everyday that God remove her pain.  According to her, most days He does and she is thankful.  She said that God continues to speak to her in her dreams.  Then she looked directly into my eyes (the same eyes looking back at her) and said, "you have that gift too, don't you? " I said, 'what gift grandma?', "He speaks to you in your dreams because I asked him to right after you were born...I prayed and asked God to always keep you safe and to let you dream dreams...dreams of Him!"

My dreams are of Him.