HEART PATHS

By Alice Sawtelle

Thoughts about Change ~ Changing Thoughts

So much is changing.  My life has been flipping. The world around me seems to have turned upside down and backwards.  Is it only me that feels this way?

I am Alice. A native of Calhoun, West Virginia. I grew up in the small community of Nobe, which borders the Gilmer County line. Actually, I was born just across that county line on the Gilmer side, off of what is now known as Fingerboard Road. I still live at Nobe, but it too has changed. Back in my young days family, friends and neighbors were my world.  People came together for celebrations in joyful times and for comfort and support in times of trouble.

My foundational principles were instilled in me by these same people. One such person that comes to mind was Oma Roberts who was my first Sunday school teacher.  She was a shining star in my life at that impressionable young and tender age.  I think it was from her that I was made aware of that still small voice that spoke in my heart and was heard only by me.  She explained that it was the voice of God. 

Next, my momma stands out as a prime teacher and example in my life. She told me, repeatedly, “always tell the truth, always be honest.”  Momma was a God fearing woman. An honorable courageous woman with strength, faith and wisdom. I will dare say a ‘Proverbs 31 woman’. These echoing words were often my roadmap. 

Another teacher was my auntie, my fill-in mother. I lived with her at my grandma’s house until I was seven. I guess auntie reached an agreement with momma and pops  that I should live with her. Momma was a schoolteacher and boarded away from home through the week back then. Auntie taught me about love, sacrifice and structured discipline. The love of hot pancakes and homemade chocolate syrup made by boiling cocoa and sugar in water until it was thick and syrupy.  When there was no cocoa, another substitute sugar syrup was made with vanilla flavoring.  Other mornings it was biscuits and gravy.  Sometimes we had fried mush.  Breakfast at it’s best!  As I got older I realized it was the love of a dear auntie who got up early and made it all happen. Sometimes auntie didn’t eat until everyone else had finished. I thought this was odd, but my mind hadn’t embraced the reality of how hard things were then.  It was also at grandma’s house that I learned obedience by the sting on my bare little legs caused by a willow switch. Sometimes It meant that I had gone beyond the border of the fence around the yard. Boundaries in our lives are important you know!   

My grandma taught me about sadness. And strength! In my mind’s eye I can still see her sitting in her little rocker in front of that small gas heater in the living room. Her aproned lap held pieces of fabric that she had cut into small sizes and shapes. With  a thimble on her finger and a threaded needle she slowly sewed those pieces together making beautiful designed squares that would later be sown into a quilt top. Beside her chair on the floor sat an old tin can. Her homemade spittoon. Grandma was a snuff rubber!  I recall her sniffing and occasionally reaching in her apron pocket for her crusty hanky to wipe her nose.  Occasionally she also dabbed away the tears, thinking that I didn’t see.  But I did see.  I didn’t understand then.  Now I understand.  

Today, I sit in my rocking chair.  It is much nicer and more comfortable than my grandma’s rocker. My home is also warmer than hers was. I hook rag rugs and sometimes crochet. The love of family and the sniffing and hidden tears are a common thread that I share with my mothers before me.  

I can remember a time that my dad sat silently weeping, head in hand with his bent elbow resting on the kitchen table as he whisperingly pleaded “Surely not Lord?”  God gave him dreams and visions.  He was an old man then.  He didn’t share much in those last days of his life, but I observed his grievous and broken countenance. I’ve often pondered on those few moments in momma’s kitchen, alone with myaging pop. What was that dream about?  I didn’t ask the question. I believe that my ‘Pops’ was a prophet. His fanatical religious beliefs were not accepted by many people nor in most churches around home back then.  Neither were they accepted by me.  But that is another story.

The term ‘time changes everything’ rings true.  Time has changed my world, my community, my family, my life.  Time has changed me.  My mothers before me are gone. Pops is gone.  My gramps are gone.  Uncles, aunts, nephews, some cousins gone.  First husband and even my own firstborn child!  All gone.  But God’s word remains. Strong and true.  It will never change.  

Presently, my mind is moving back to the year of 2020. Early in that year!  When the big covid invaded our country, our homes and our lives. Most of us waited patiently, trying to stay safe as we longed for our lives to go back to normal. I think many people, if not most would now agree that the life we then thought to be normal, is a thing of the past and will not be returning. Betrayal has come in many forms and fashions. We do not all agree on where to put the blame. But one thing I’m sure of. God is not the betrayer!  He is truth and He is light. There is no darkness in Him.  Our country and the world seem to be crumbling.  I hear others say that good sleep is hard to come by these days.  I can relate.  However, all the terror surrounding us the past two years does not nullify my foundational truths. You remember, right?  That truth and honest thing that momma drilled into me.  It included God’s truths.  His word says that in this world we will have trouble. That evil men and seducers shall get worse. Deceiving and being deceived.  But It also says that He has overcome the world.  So, I can be of good cheer by clinging to His Word.  Daily, I try to remind myself that God has always taken care of His people. The past two years has changed me. But God will never change!

I’m also reminded of the Lord Jesus Christ’s promise to those He left, before His ascension.  That he would pray the Father to send another comforter, even the spirit of truth and He would teach all things and guide into all truth. So should we not ask Him? For comfort, protection, direction and truth. Even as things are waxing worse and worse, I pray for truth and that God’s people be not deceived.  Many may come in his name, look like him, talk like him and call themselves him.  But He said that His sheep know His voice.  Sometimes it may be only a still small voice.  

If you become a reader of my column, I welcome and thank you.   

alice.heartpaths@gmail.com   

Thank you Shari Johnson. You are a woman of courage to accept the challenge of a new online newspaper for Calhoun County.  May you stay strong and true to this calling.  And thank you for an open door to occasional contributions from me in the form of a column.

Also, I thank Bob and Dianne Weaver.  They welcomed my sister and me many years ago, to co-write and launch our first ever column “Where The Heart Is” in their online paper, The Hur Herald.  Later on, I solo-authored another column “Heart Paths” and now I’ve decided to continue my “Heart Paths” column after getting Bob r and Dianne’s permission and well-wishes. I will always write from my heart.  I pray that my Heavenly Father will guide my writing, that His Word will be a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path and that I will always recognize His small still voice.