Table of Grace with Pastor Dreama

As I sat at my sewing machine working on a new Grassroots Americana quilt, I noticed how the blocks formed a sideways cross. I grew excited and shared with my husband that this was yet another way the quilts' pattern could minister to someone who simply needed a glimpse of Christian love. You know the kind of love I'm talking about right? The kind that Jesus showed as He ministered to folks' basic and spiritual needs. Because I am a "hugger", it is my prayer that these little quilts will offer warmth as they give the recipient a little hug so to speak...and since each one comes complete with prayers for health, peace, wisdom, and HOPE stitched right in, I believe its possible for them to evoke a smile as well.  As I started to feed the quilt through the machine, I whispered a small prayer over the quilt (as well as for my still-under-development sewing skills): "Father, help me get the cross right." And with that small prayer, reality slammed me...

I looked down at the finished sampler. It was perfect...well close enough for me anyway; after being washed, starched, and tossed onto the back of a chair, the ripped-out and resewn seams would be but memories. And then I saw it. It glared at me from the finished "Grassroots Americana" samplier, so named for the red-white-blue-and-green color scheme. It is still there, in the top left block, do you see it?  That one misplaced star point?   I took a deep breath. And then another. Breathe Coach Kelly, take some of your own advice. Breathe. Breathe. BREATHE! As I calculated the tedious process of ripping the quilted blocks apart, I knew it was doable. The mistake was one that most quilters, if they are honest, have experienced. And the exact reason Mrs. Kessel, our high school home economics teacher, stressed the importance of a good seam ripper! As I glared back at the block's imperfection, something changed. Maybe it was the deep breathing, maybe it was the Holy S...

MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM THE KELLYS I am getting old...well, compared to my children and grandchildren, I am old. As I contemplate the fact that my life is more than half over, and I look back over my past, I realize that this is the time of my life that I like the best. Don't get me wrong, I loved being a "mommy". I loved snuggling with my children or watching them sleep with that angelic glow of youth shining on their tiny, perfect faces. I loved watching them explore the world around them. These things brought me happiness...But those were highly stressful days too. It was not easy putting those darling little ones to bed because I knew that more-than-likely, they wouldn't stay there long. Bath time for three little girls often resulted in as much water on the floor as in the tub! And then, there came along the youngest child, a boy. Arriving eight to thirteen years after the girls, he was solely to be loved, spoiled and fought over by his sisters! For you e...

I LOVE FALL!  I don't know if it's because fall gives me a good reason to wear my worn-out boots or the smell of burning leaves...I don't know if I love fall because of the brilliant colors or the crisp mornings where the steam off my coffee swirls out of the cup then floats away. Maybe it’s the hot apple dumplings, excitement of football season, or the joy John and I get from watching our grand-kids scurry like squirrels to collect hickory nuts and acorns.  Or maybe it's because in fall, West Virginia's state colors go from blue and gold to camo or is this just an illusion?   I'm not convinced that's it either.  The only thing that I can say for sure, is that I love fall and trying to explain exactly why is simply impossible. It’s a lot like trying to describe my love for Jesus Christ.  There are the typical religious answers such as because He died for me or because the Bible says I should since, after all, He is the Way, the Truth, and the L...

Have you ever wondered when, or even if, Jesus is coming back? I was watching one of my new favorite preachers and at the end of his sermon, a line from the W&P song caught my attention: "Our hands are lifted and our voices raised to the One who is seated forever to reign." I felt a question rise up within my spirit:  " Is this the generation that will finally remember what it means to have a relationship with Jesus ?" Are we the generation, those of us living right now, who were raised up for such a time as this, the generation that will put aside religion and take up the cross of love, compassion, discipline, and power to be the generation that can lay aside the weight of religion and embrace what Jesus died for? I certainly don't have all the answers, shucks some days I wonder if I have any of the answers, but it seems to me that so many "Christians" are still trying to let the Old Covenant define their right of passage into heaven when ...

This morning I was getting ready for my day and out of the blue the Holy Spirit spoke to my heart about what it means to believe. I honestly do not recall what I was thinking at the time when He tugged on my heart and said "You believe but it's more important to follow."  His words bugged me throughout the day so now, at 9:30 pm on a Saturday evening, well past my usual blogging time, I just have to put His words out here for y'all to read and ponder - ya know, share my thoughts, to share the love. The popular phrase "I Believe" is a great way to share the fact that we believe in a Triune God; a great way to open conversation about God and faith and life in general; but what does that mean or what difference does it really make? Is it only words or can the fact that we believe change the world for others? Let me expand upon that thought: Mark 1:24, Matthew 8:29, and Revelation 12:4 records instances of demons and angels alike knowing and b...

As For Our House, We Do Real Real Good "Hey you need to decide who you’re going to serve…as for me and my house, we’re gonna serve the Lord” (Paraphrased from Joshua 24:15) Has anyone ever said to you “Hey, I’m just being real”?  And if so, have you ever wanted to respond “Duh, Sherlock, I didn’t think you were a zombie!”?   Using this popular excuse for simply being rude, like using our Southern phrase “Bless his heart” as a gentle way of saying “Well, that was stupid!” just doesn’t always cut it with me!  This is where my blog has, it seems, a SQUIRREL moment (you know like from the movie UP).  This morning (okay, technically it was this past Sunday) I was fixing myself a tomato on toast sandwich with “butter” and noticed that the product description read “Real taste from real ingredients” and I thought to myself “Well duh, everything we touch is real so it really doesn’t matter whether it comes from a cow, from corn, or from a chemical factory,...