Daddy's Girl...

My father died a week ago today and I'm left with a pretty sizable hole in my heart.  After a short battle with Pulmonary Fibrosis/Amiodarone Pulmonary Toxicity (brought on by the drug Amiodarone that was prescribed for atrial fibrillation) he succumbed to the disease leaving a heartbroken family who lost a great man much too soon for our selfish preferences.

Born June 2, 1932, we celebrated his life and legacy on Saturday, August 21, 2010.  My precious children-in-law, Nichole Broome and Steven Gompers, shared beautiful songs in tribute, and I spoke for a few minutes about the man I called "Daddy".  For friends and family who couldn't be with us, here's what I shared:

Daddy was a mess! The dictionary defines “mess” as something that is disorderly or untidy—and that surely isn’t the kind of mess he was—in fact, he was just the opposite, so the reason I use “mess” has little to do with its actual meaning and is much more about an idea and if you knew him well, you are following right along with me, and you can probably hear his voice saying, “You are a mess!” if you ever made him laugh. He truly was the only one of his kind in captivity.

Daddy was such a mess that sometimes 'he didn’t know which one of the boys he was'. He told us often that he felt like he was sent for, couldn’t go, finally went and wouldn’t do. At other times, he was down with the con-soni-bonilitis and that was a big mess. When three little girls vying for his attention were all yelling, “diddy, diddy!,” he always answered us, “no he didn’t!”. And if we said, “Daddy, guess what?” without hesitation he responded, “the higher you raise a mule’s tail, the better you can see his butt.” Ponder that picture for a minute.

All of Daddy’s boys were girls—and as the eldest, I will be spokesMan. So for just a couple of minutes I want to talk about three traits that define our Daddy and our sweet Mama’s husband: Life, Laughter and Love.

Daddy lived life with a carpe diem kind of seize the day attitude that amazed. The baby of ten, we often imagined him as a little boy who had to work hard to get noticed because the “cuteness” of little kids had probably worn off by the time he came along. Undaunted, Daddy made his mark in the world by determining to conquer and complete whatever he made up his mind to do.

All of Dad’s brothers and sisters graduated high school after completing 11 years, but as Dad’s 11th grade year drew to a close, the state of NC decided that to really be smart enough to graduate, there should be 12 grades. In his mind, that was grossly unfair so he decided not to get a diploma and show this dumb state what they could do with their new requirement. He moved to Charlotte, got a job as an apprentice electrician and thought that would be that, but a wonderful agriculture teacher who had a particular fondness for daddy, drove to Charlotte and convinced him to move back to Peachland and finish high school.

As young girls, we loved looking through Dad’s high school yearbooks, especially enjoying the knowledge that our Dad’s nickname was “chicken.” The father we knew was anything but that, he was our brave hero and earned a Bronze Star during his time in Korea that proved it! He could do anything and knew everything—and if he didn’t know, he made something up that sounded so good we believed him.

When driving somewhere didn’t get him to his destination quickly enough, he took flying lessons so he could pack us into a little Cessna and take us exploring. When a Charlotte District Court judge decided that Daddy’s girls would be bussed across town rather than attending the school we could walk to from home, he protested that decision by founding a private school in our neighborhood that he built from the ground up with the help of like-minded neighbors. The letter he wrote petitioning for Valleydale School’s charter was so impressive that the response came back addressed to “Attorney Glenn Horne”. That 12th grade served him well!

Daddy lived life by seizing every chance possible to demonstrate his love for his family and there were evidences of that all around our home. He was a life-builder and even our backyard play house reflected that—it was wired for lights and sound and built by loving hands that were never too tired from a hard day’s work to keep him from doing the things that he set out to do. If he had any idea what Kathie was doing out in that playhouse though…but I digress…

Daddy took us places and showed us things that were important to him and always entertained us along the way with stories that may have occasionally been ever-so-slightly embellished, but made us heehaw anyway. He had nicknames for our friends and back in the day entertained them and us by bringing home a bucket truck to give us rides up above the trees. He had no idea that Lisa was pocketing some cash by charging her friends for their rides, though!

Laughter was the soundtrack of life with Daddy. Not long after they were married, Mama cooked dinner and set the table in her finest Martha Stewart fashion. On the center of the table there was a large metal spoon in the green bean bowl and silverware beside their plates. Suddenly, the spoon in the bowl started dancing—and Mama starting freaking out a little. Then, the silverware started to move around. Daddy fessed up when she was visibly shaken, pulling out a huge magnet that he was balancing on his legs under the table.

A couple of years ago Mom called me to tell about a religious experience she thought she was having as she watered the plants on her back porch. A bumblebee was buzzing by her head and suddenly she felt certain that his buzz was to the tune of Amazing Grace. She looked up into the heavens, confident that God was giving her some kind of special encounter and stopped what she was doing so that she could be sure it wasn’t in her head—sure enough, the tune Amazing Grace was buzzing in her ears. She dropped her watering can and ran to tell Daddy to come and listen only to find him on the lakeside porch with a kazoo—humming—you guessed it—Amazing Grace!

He made friends with inanimate objects like a rabbit statue in a beach house we once rented. He named her Esmerelda and she became a part of that year’s vacation. He never got too old to laugh and play with some of his toys. He loved his talking Bubbas and his gobbling turkeys and was famous for lots of what we lovingly refer to as Glennisms. When we got a scrape or bruise as children will, he always sympathetically said, “That will feel better when it quits hurting!” At restaurants, we knew that his order was always going to be either hummingbird livers on rye or a peananer rocious on a super gobsloscious depending upon his appetite. Waitresses loved him!

LOVE was the theme of life with Daddy. He loved LOVE themed music like “I’ll Be Loving You Eternally,” a song that was his love song for Mama that we played for him on his last day and when he could no longer speak, he still puckered his lips for one last kiss as he heard that music and her whispered reminder of love in his ear.

He was a man who didn’t just show it, he said it. Never once did I visit him since getting married 31 years ago that he at some point he didn’t say, “I love you Sandy Kay.” or, “Does George know how much I love him?” or, “I sure do love those babies!” or, well…you get the picture.

On Sunday as he was telling us all how much he loved us for the last time, I couldn’t help thinking to myself, "I said, self," I hope he knows that we’ve never doubted that for a second because he’s made sure every day that we knew.

There is only one person that Daddy loved more than his family and that was his Lord and Savior. More important to him than pulling out pictures and bragging about how cute we all are (or were) when talking to someone (and he talked to everyone) he’d more than likely pull out his business cards and tell them how they could get to know the love of his life, Jesus Christ.

In the last years of life, he spent his energy sharing his faith. I told my sisters that one of the most endearing things about Daddy was that where he was, was where he was. If he was talking to you, he was looking you in the eyes, concentrating on you—the most important person in the world at that moment, instead of looking around the room to see if there was another better or more interesting conversation to be had. He was a masterfully skilled communicator who never seemed insincere when he was sharing his heart of love with someone, and I’m convinced that’s the reason that nurses who only knew him for a few days fell just as in love with him and came in after their shifts ended to spend time at his bedside and came back to the hospital to cry with us as he was dying.

One of them was a nurse who cared for Daddy last year after he fell out of the infamous pear tree, chainsaw in hand. She had heard he was up in CCU and wanted to come by and tell him that he had touched her life like no other patient. Her words to us were that he looked her in the eyes and asked her if she was okay. She found herself telling him that she wasn’t—really—and he told her how she could find the joy that she needed for life in spite of her troubles. She never forgot that, and she never forgot daddy—and she wanted him to know that he made an indelible impact on her life and in her marriage. She said, “he didn’t know me at all, but he genuinely cared.” His care was born out of his love for His Savior—a love that was so compelling that he couldn’t not care.

While going through some of Dad’s mementos and keepsakes, we found a folded restaurant placemat—he was quite an accomplished placemat artist by the way—and on it he’d written a poem that reads:

Just to know that our love has lasted almost a lifetime


Keeps joy and thankfulness on my thankful mind


We savor all the good times and let go of the bad

And to know our daughters can still call me “Dad”


Are just a few of the reminders of the blessings I have had


God has been so good and


I have always known that with me He’s always stood. Signed, G. Billingsley Horne

After he retired, Daddy designed his new and improved business cards. They featured praying hands on the left and his name and address on the right along with his favorite Bible verse, John 3:16. He always kept one ready to hand out to anyone he struck up a conversation with who needed encouragement or wanted to hear more about God’s love.

On Wednesday night, I picked up the Bible he read every day and randomly opened it to a page with just one highlighted verse…

Matthew 25:21 (New King James Version)

21 His lord said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant; you were faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord.’

This morning, he is there with His Savior and his loved ones who had gone before him, still celebrating life—ETERNAL LIFE—that was bought for him on Calvary’s cross when he asked a resurrected Jesus Christ to be his forgiver and leader. Daddy HAS entered into the joy of His Lord! And the thing he’d want me to ask every person here is will you be there with him one day? And are you sure? Because if you aren’t, you can be. His favorite verse John 3:16, explains how that’s possible. It reads: For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son that whosoever believes in Him will not perish but will have everlasting life.

Our family thanks every one of you who has prayed for us, mourned with us, rejoiced with us and celebrated his life with us today, and I would be negligent if I didn’t ask one last question for Dad—will your legacy be like his? Will you live life fully, laugh hard often, and love God and people extravagantly? Because that is how best to honor the memory and legacy of my Daddy, Glenn B. Horne…

TIKVAH!

Tikvah!  It's a word I learned from a woman I love--Tiffany Pate.  Tikvah is a Hebrew word that means "hope, waiting in expectation of," and God gave it to her during a special quiet time after her breast cancer diagnosis.

If you've followed my blog for a while you know about her journey, her faith, and her legacy--but if you are new to Cerebrations, you can catch up here.

Because of Tiffany Pate, my life will never be the same, so it's my privilege to share that her husband Brian has created bracelets in her memory to help raise funds for Cancer Services of Gaston County, an organization that has helped her family and the families of so many others touched by the disease. The bracelets are $2.50 each and include two scripture passages that define (in summary) her hope and her confidence.

Romans 12:12 says: Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. and she was. Psalm 91 (stamped on the inside of the bracelets) is a passage that strenghtened her unwavering faith, and finally, TIKVAH,is a message for us all--that our hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness.

If you'd like to order a bracelet you can find out more by emailing TiffanysTikvah@hushmail.com.

Finally, please remember to pray for Brian and her boys, Landon and Ridge, who like so many of us carry on because of our confident TIKVAH that we will see her again soon!

Fat Cow? Wow!

I do not imagine that any woman of any era would  appreciate being called a "fat cow," but that's exactly what the prophet Amos called the indulgent women of Israel as he spoke for God within the first five chapters of the book named after him.

The pages of these scripture passages paint a portrait of a people who reeked with the odor of ungodly behavior, and this herdsman turned prophet, Mr. Amos, spoke clearly (and bluntly) in an attempt to warn them to wake up before it was too late.

So what were the transgressions of these fat cows?  They oppressed the poor and crushed the needy--either directly, or maybe scarier--indirectly.  Their incessant whining and pining for more "stuff" apparently drove their husbands to commit great injustices in order to satisfy them, and God was angry.

I ask myself, am I guilty of the same?  I loathe the idea of being a "fat cow," and yet I know I'm prone to plod the path that leads to that putrified pasture.

My husband and I recently discussed at length the fact that very few people--even Christians--seem to be satisfied with just having their needs met any more.  We are a consuming lot, always wanting better, newer, nicer, and while I will not suggest that this is 100% wrong all of the time, I will propose that what might be more in line with what is God pleasing and God honoring is establishing a "this much is enough" plan so that when and if we are blessed beyond the "enough" mark, the rest can be given to help those who need it.

Everything that Amos prophesied regarding the judgments awaiting those who ignored his warnings happened, some of it in as little as thirty years.  Merciful God gave them plenty of time to repent, but they didn't.

Today, I think the cow bell's alarm is sounding loud and clear--but will we listen?  Am I listening?  I hope I am not just listening but learning and heeding--because I never--EVER--want to be a fat cow in God's eyes.

Father, help me appreciate "enough" and be faithful to share the extra.  Please help Your economy be mine--and vice versa, in Jesus' Name, amen.

Fine Wine on My Mind...

Confusion.  What's the first thing that comes to mind when you hear or say that word?  There is a legitimate difference between confusion and ignorance, and yet somehow the two can seem intricately intertwined when the confused person doesn't avail himself of the information that can remedy any contributing ignorance.

Such seems to have been the case in the day of Isaiah, most specifically as he penned chapters 5 through 8.  There can be little confusion upon reading his words however, about the state of affairs that dominated the culture in his era.  Most striking to me is the parallel that can be drawn between his day and ours.  Some of these passages read as if they could be snatched from today's headlines.

Take a look at just a few of the verses and see if you agree:

5: 11 What sorrow for those who get up early in the morning looking for a drink of alcohol and spend long evenings drinking wine to make themselves flaming drunk. 12 They furnish wine and lovely music at their grand parties...but they never think about the Lord or notice what he is doing.

20 What sorrow for those who say that evil is good and good is evil, that dark is light and light is dark, that bitter is sweet and sweet is bitter. 21 What sorrow for those who are wise in their own eyes and think themselves so clever.

Isaiah opened chapter 5 by giving us the picture of a beautiful vineyard beloved by its owner.  The vineyard, planted in fertile soil and supplied with the perfect amount of everything it needed to produce a lovely harvest, has produced bitter fruit and is overgrown with weeds.  Maybe most disturbing though is that in His frustration, the vineyard owner has decided to remove its protective hedge.

A people who reject and ignore the blessings and benefits of the loving vineyard owner (God) eventually reap the consequences of their rejection.  God will have a harvest and there will be fine wine.  I pray that the veils of confusion and the cloaks of ignorance that seem to be prevailing in our day will be removed so that the harvest will again be plentiful in the land I love.  If not, I plead for mercy and ask Him to continue to cultivate small vineyards that yield good fruit for His purposes in the places where you and I live.

Father-- please till the soil of my personal vineyard until the fruit I produce is lovely, fragrant, and good enough to yield the sweetest wine. 

God Bless America...

I am and always have been proud to be American.  Having said that, I am not always proud OF America.  There are times when as a culture/nation we have failed to live up to our potential and have made mistakes that are disheartening and disillusioning.  Even still, there is no place on earth like this land of the free and home of the brave.  A quick trip outside our borders to anywhere else confirms and affirms that we enjoy a level of benefit and blessing that is unparalleled. America is arguably the best idea ever--it's a place where individuals are free to choose to work hard to reach personal goals or be lazy and satisified with a mediocre or mundane life experience. For all her faults (perceived and real) I consider myself extremely fortunate to have been blessed enough to be born here.

Recently, I've read two books that I'd like to mention for those who are interested in thinking about the good, the bad, and the difficult related to where we are as a country and where we are going if things continue on the path we seem to be choosing.

The first, written by  Dinesh D'Souza, is titled: "What's So Great About America." You may have trouble finding it, but it's worth the search. 

The second, "The Late Great United States," is written by Mark Hitchcock. Be warned, this is not light summer reading.  It isn't even particularly enjoyable to tell you the truth. But if you are willing and ready to accept that there are statistics and facts that cannot be denied and should not be ignored if we care about our country's future, then it's a "must read".






I will conclude by saying again that I love my country.  I am forever indebted to my dad and every other brave man and woman who has served valiantly in the armed forces of this nation to defend freedom, and I am so thankful to God for allowing me to be the beneficiary by birth of the brilliant ideas of my forefathers.  I will never take for granted the privilege of growing up in the land of the free and the home of the brave, and as long as I have breath I will continue to say "thank you" to God for letting me enjoy the blessings of living here. 

Happy Birthday America!

The Main Thing...

Every day for the past several months I have prayed for dear friends and family members who are enduring serious trials, illnesses or burdens.  In each instance I've been reminded that taking my concerns to the Father is a precious privilege, and at the same time, these situations have served to remind me that this life boils down to one big main thing: Love. 

Words are not minced in Matthew 22...37 Jesus replied, “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind. 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. 

I want to love God with all my heart, soul, and mind--but do I?  Really?  And how does my life reflect it if I do?

And what about my neighbor? 

The truth is--I have a long way to go.  But with all my heart, soul, and mind, I don't want to miss the main thing.  And as best as I can tell, the main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.

Help me Lord! I see--I know--I believe--that the main thing is love, and I don't want to miss it.

Kind Comments and Precious People...

A few very kind people have sent notes and left comments thanking me for posting early information about Megan, Kreig, Evie Caroline and Holden Bell on my blog. I want to assure each of you that I've read your extremely gracious words and I'm humbled by your gratitude...BUT...honestly, it was an honor and a calling to be able to send out a plea for prayers two weeks ago and I am thrilled to know that so many have prayed fervently and faithfully.  Having the ability to stand in the gap for each other as brothers and sisters in Christ is one of the most precious blessings associated with being part of God's family, and how wonderful that we can all celebrate the real and tangible evidence of the miraculous work He's done.

Megan, Kreig, babies...you have touched my heart and continue to inspire me every day!  I pray enormous continued blessings for each of your lives and believe with all my heart that you are going to be used in incredible ways for His glory in the days to come.

1 Thessalonians 5:17~ let's keep praying!