Day Trip

My husband and I finally took a day trip last Saturday to Seagrove, North Carolina, to enjoy the world-famous pottery that is created in that small town.  The day didn't start off as planned, and I wondered if we'd even get to go.  Bob wears contact lenses, and as he was putting them in, the one in his left eye popped out.  When he couldn't find it, he called me, and we spent about 20 minutes searching every place imaginable where it could have landed in the bathroom, but we came up empty.  Bob is near-sighted and can't see anything without his contacts/glasses unless it's in front of his face, so the search was pretty much left to me.  When this has happened before, we've always been able to find the lens, but not this time.  We finally gave up.  Bob put on his thick glasses since he didn't have a spare left contact; he wears the old hard ones, his preference.  But his glasses had a broken nose piece, so they weren't comfortable.
After breakfast, we headed to the local WalMart, where he had the nose piece replaced.  We finally headed to Seagrove after a delay of 1.5 hours.  We still have not found the contact lens in the bathroom.  Only God knows where it is!  Really!
We took the scenic route, but the colorful leaves were mostly on the ground, so it wasn't as scenic as we thought it would be.  We arrived in Seagrove at noon, along with hundreds of other people.  The festival was being held in an old canning factory, where vendors had set up well-lighted booths to display their wares.  Seagrove has become a destination in itself because of the huge number of potters that live in and around the town -- about 100 of them -- each creating one-of-a-kind pieces ranging from dollhouse decorative size to sculptures to stand on the floor, some of them weighing over 100 pounds.  I was searching for 2 particular potters, and as luck would have it, they were the last ones in our tour of the festival.  I was amazed to find that Hickory Hill still used the same glaze, and I was able to add a soup turine and a mixing bowl to my set of 3 bowls that I had purchased about 11 years ago.  We also purchased two small plates glazed by the crystalline technique, 4 soup mugs, and a butter dish.  We ate outside the building, where some food vendors had set up, and sat on an old, weathered picnic table to dine.  Although a cool day, we were able to sit in the sun, which made it pleasant.
After leaving the factory with our purchases tucked securely on the floor behind us in the car, we set out on an adventure to check out other potters in the area.  We stopped at several buildings, and Bob purchased a vase at one of them.  On our excursion, we passed a lot of farmland, and one thing that caught our eyes -- we saw several huge pigs in the front yard of one house; they were fenced in, and the yard was nothing but dirt and mud, so we had a good laugh over that!  It's not something we see every day! 
Finally, we stopped at the information center and museum in the town itself.  The small museum gives the history of pottery in North Carolina and has many old photographs of early potters and their wares.  There were many pieces from the 1800's and early 1900's exhibited in the museum, most of which were in superb condition.  We headed back to Durham around dusk and finished our day with a light dinner out -- no cooking for me! 
Many of us are like potters -- we enjoy creating with our hands.  And our potter, God himself, has crafted each one of us to be a useful vessel for His service.  Oddly enough, God never finishes us, never takes us off His potter's wheel, until we leave this earth, so we're always a work in progress, but still useful.  Sometimes we crack, but He's there to fix us and renew us.  I'm reminded of the old hymn:  Have thine own way, Lord, Have thine own way.  Though art the potter, I am the clay.  Mold me and make me after thy will, while I am waiting, yielded and still." 
Even pottery can teach us about our God.

Still Here!

It's been far too long since I posted -- my life has been painfully busy!  I work full-time and then come home and do my other job -- laundry, cooking, cleaning, paying bills, and grocery shopping, and I try to get some exercise every day.  On top of that, I've been working to get "Amanda's Hope -- A Choice for Life" published by a professional publisher!  Oh, and I'm trying to make jewelry on the side, too.  We've also had company for the past 2 Saturday evenings, so that kept me in the kitchen most of the day (and I don't mind!  I LOVE to cook and bake!), and we've also spent time with family!  And you know how life can throw you curve balls with all sorts of aggravating problems.  I'm TIRED!  But it looks like things are slowing down, so I should be able to post a decent account this weekend.  Bob and I will be taking a day trip to Seagrove, North Carolina, on Saturday to enjoy the area's pottery festival, so that will give me plenty to talk about!  

Home

We have a saying here in America (I don't know if this has gone worldwide!) - "Home is where the heart is."  The familiarity of home conjures up memories as we age, memories often triggered by a simple smell or sound.  Many of us enjoy family get-togethers during the holidays, which are fast approaching here as Thanksgiving is in less than 3 weeks.  We become wrapped in traditions, smells, tastes, and arms of loved ones during these precious times.  As human beings created in the image of God, we seek comfort in the familiar, yet this earth is not our final home.
During the last several years, I've lost friends that I've known through my church and work.  My friend Nancy passed away several months ago after a year-long battle with cancer.  She was close to my age, a lovely person who dearly loved the Lord and had everything for which to live.  But in reality she's home now, home in heaven with the One who made her and loved her more than anyone on earth.  I'm sure she'd never trade the glories of that place for the comforts of home on this earth.
My mother-in-law is 89 years old and is now in the hospital due to an infection.  Most of us would think that she's closer to home than me because I'm only 62 years of age, but no one knows if that's true.  God, in his wisdom, doesn't allow us to know the time of our death, which is a good thing.  Yes, those with grave illnesses know that they are doing to die sooner, but they never know the exact day or moment.  As I age, I've realized that I'm closer to being 'born' into heaven than I am to being born here on this earth, my final home, my eternal, real home.  Life is so fleeting on this earth that we truly can't fathom the expanse of eternity with no measure of time.  Even as I love my life on this earth, I look forward to being with God, to being in His presence, to being free from all the problems, illnesses, limitations, frustrations, endless work, and struggles that come with living here.  I'm looking forward to seeing family that's gone on before and to reunite with my friend Nancy, who I'm sure will have a fabulous garden growing under her tender care. 
My heart longs for my eternal home -- does yours?  Do you know the location of your eternal home?  Remember that there are two of them.