The Good Life

Miranda

Miranda is Phil's daughter and my step-daughter. When Phil and I met, she was still in college at KY Wesleyan. Then she went on to Vanderbilt for her MTS, and she eventually graduated from UT Law School. In 2006, Miranda married David Head, and they live in Tennessee, where Miranda practices law.

This young lady is one of the most focused, driven persons I've ever known, and she has her own mind with the courage to give it voice. She plays the piano quite well and continues to study. Apparently, she is also quite the golfer and plays regularly.

We are extremely proud of Miranda for the way she chooses to live her life and the light she brings to the world.

The Great River

This is the Rio Grande, the photo taken standing on the dam outside of Del Rio, Texas. The right side of the river is Mexico; the left is Texas.

Standing on the dam, it is easy to imagine standing on a bridge that crosses Jordan. Loved ones are on both sides, those we leave behind, and those standing in that great cloud of witnesses. The bridge across Jordan is a bridge built by love, not that we loved Him, but that He loved us.

Kids Upstage the Preacher

This has to be every performer's worst nightmare, to be in the middle of a performance and be upstaged by a kid. Vacation Bible School began yesterday evening. Following the parade of classes and the pledges to the flags and Bible, Rev. Tony spoke to the children about Jesus. He used a "rubics" cube of sorts to explain the redemption story.

At the first the cube displayed a picture of a man in the dark and a very bright light, meant to be God. Then he showed Jesus on the cross. Then he showed the tomb with the stone in front of it and the Roman soldiers standing guard. Then he showed Jesus on the outside of the tomb.

Suddenly one of the boys shouted, "Wait a minute! How'd he get past those guards?"

It's Time to Discuss Phil

Philip Andrew Christy is the one and only reason I would have ever moved to Bracken County. We met while I was leading the music at the fall revival of First Baptist Church of Augusta in October, 1999. Yes, that was the revival that would change the course of my life.

I didn't like Phil very much when I first met him. He was arrogant and something of a smart Alec. On our first date, we went to Tumbleweed in Florence. Dinner was awful, and we argued the entire time. Phil, being a pilot, kept telling me how I would eventually want to learn to fly, even though, I kept telling him that I had absolutely no more interest in flying a plane than running my fingernails down a chalkboard.

When he took me home, he told me he was going to Texas for a week, and would I call him while he was there. I remember saying to him, "Are you crazy? I wouldn't call you if you were in Kentucky, and I'm surely not going to call you in Texas." The week went by, and I didn't call him, nor did he call me. When he returned to Kentucky, however, he did call and asked if I'd like to get together. I told him I didn't think we had very much in common and we probably shouldn't pursue anything.

Then I had to get together with my friend, Susan, who proceeded to tell me that I was being a stubborn and spoiled brat; and if I wasn't going to call Phil back, she would! So, from Susan's house, I did call him back, and the rest, as they say, is history! Phil and I were married on January 9, 2000, at the First Baptist Church of Augusta. We moved into a really nice apartment in Florence, and I became Property Valuation Administrator for Boone County the very next day. Phil continued to work for Comair.

The first year of our marriage was tricky because we were both so busy. During that year, 2000, I got married for the first time, accepted a public job that would be scrutinized, (or so it seemed,) by the world, bought a house, and ran an unsuccessful political campaign. Phil accepted a new job, bought a house, and watched me run an unsuccessful campaign. Somehow, we got through it.

We've been married 8 1/2 years. Phil hated Boone County, so we bought a farm and built a house in Bracken County. I don't hate Bracken County, but it will never be home. All that aside, I love Phil with all my heart. There are times I really hate him, but thankfully, those times are few. Fundamentally, we are the same. We're both Christians. We both believe in the infallibility of the Bible, although we sometimes interpret it very differently. We laugh together, and Phil puts up with my "stuff."

He accepts that I fight with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Fybromyalgia. He accepts that I'm a diabetic and an asthmatic. He accepts my migraine headaches. He accepts my two dogs and five cats (although the cats come in and out of his grace.)

My house is something that Phil built with his own two hands. Every nail that's hammered in this house was put here by Phil or his brother, John. He is in the process of building a deck. Phil is second most talented man I've known, the first being my dad. He is intelligent beyond belief, although he was not so successful with his own education. He can read for a flight exam and pass it with a 99% grade! Currently, he drives a truck for a living, which he says he hates, but he works because I can no longer. That isn't something he signed on for, but he's here.

Virgie Belle Grimes Webb

Virgie Belle Grimes was born on the 2nd of June, 1910 in Whitwell, Tennesee to Lonnie Grimes and Rebecca Belle Dodson, the first of five children. Virgie and her sister, Lena, barely got to know their father, as he died in February, 1914 when Virgie was four and Lena, two. Lonnie Edward Grimes, the baby, was still on the way.

So, Belle packed up her girls and boarded a train for White County, Tennessee. Moving in with her mother, Emily, Belle set about making a way for her family. Emily Bowlin Dodson, was a widow, herself, as Belle's father, Sam Dodson, had died in 1908. Lonnie Edward came in June.

White County is in the heart of the Cumberland Mountains, as Virgie's memories were of coal mines and company stores. Education was hard fought, as Belle's children would walk to school every day. Their homestead was miles from town, and the roads were dirt. Virgie was a straight A student and graduated at the top of her class from the 8th Grade. High School was a luxury unavailable to Virgie, but she made the most of what she had.

Virgie met John Henry Webb, from over in Glenmary, Scott County, Tennessee, sometime around 1927. They married in 1929 in Jamestown, Tennesee. John was from a family with ties to the land nearly as ancient as Virgie's. A family whose farm had been in the family for four generations, surely looked like security to her. They set up housekeeping on the Webb Farm, and she would give birth to Reba and James Lonnie.

The world around the Webbs had already shifted on its axis, as the stock market had already crashed, and the depression was well underway. Virgie, was used to being dirt poor, but the Webbs began migrating to Northern Kentucky in search of work. First, Will Webb, accompanied by his wife, Ina, moved to Covington, Kentucky, to take work with the Southern Railroad. Then Jim Webb, accompanied by his wife, Christy, came to Northern Kentucky to work for the same rail. One by one, the Webb family migrated. John Henry moved Virgie and his family to Ludlow, Kentucky, a small town on the Ohio River, in 1933, and the depression was raging.

Virgie would take on odd jobs to make extra money for the family. She would do laundry, iron clothes, whatever she could do. John Henry looked for work. During much of that time, John would haul ice, work for the railroad, and for the WPA to keep his family from starving. The family held its breath after December 7, 1942, as John Henry faced the draft board, but he returned having not been in good enough health to fight in a war.

Ironically, life began to change for Virgie and her family. The WPA brought steady work, and her children were involved with school. As poor as she had always been, she must have started feeling rich, as much in spirit as in wealth. The 1940s and 50s were good for Virgie. She worked in Nell Donnelly's grocery store and eventually took it over from Nell. She ran her business, and for the first time, Virgie didn't have to worry about having rent money. She saved every nickle she made, and she could stretch a nickle into a mile. Although, it's important to note that Virgie never owned her own home.

In 1950, Reba got married, and James Lonnie was married in 1951. Virgie got her first grandchild in 1952, followed by two more in 1958. She would have three more by the end of the 1960s. In 1962, however, Virgie would face life alone, as John Henry passed away in May from a cerebral hemorage. She buried him in Forest Lawn Cemetery, in Erlanger, Kentucky, and at 52, she was a widow.

Virgie worked for Dolly Madison in Cincinnati, Ohio until she retired at age 60 in 1970. She remained active in the First Baptist Church of Ludlow, Kentucky until she could no longer live by herself. When she was 86, Virgie moved to Burlington to live with her daughter, Reba. She would join John Henry in Gloryland on December 6, 1997.

Virgie Belle Grimes Webb was a tower of strength. Whatever she set her mind to do, she could accomplish. She read the Bible every single day. It was hidden in her heart, to spill out whenever she felt threatened by the devil. She worried about her family, her children and grandchildren, sometimes to the point of overkill; but they always knew they had that hedge of angels around them because of the prayer warrior that Virgie was.

Virgie couldn't always remember her grandkids' names, and she would often get them confused. She would cook dinner for me using Rhonda's favorite foods. She would call Scott "Sparky" instead of his name. Sparky was the dog. Virgie was more than offended the year Scott and I made name tags for Thanksgiving dinner. She didn't take jokes well, but she liked games. She would spend hours playing Old Maid or Go Fish! She beat everybody at Chinese Checkers.

The legacy that Virgie left behind is well established. All of her grandchildren went to college. That was very important to her. She went to my graduation when I received my master's degree, and she probably shed more tears of pride and joy than anybody. Virgie's great grandchildren are functioning members of society. She didn't live long enough to know my family, but she would have approved.

Virgie is always here at every holiday gathering, at weddings and funerals. She meets us where we need her in dreams or prayers. She'll always be in our hearts.

I was with Virgie on her deathbed. I told her I wanted her to get well and come home. I'll never forget her words to me, "I'm going home. It won't be long, but I know I'll see you there."

No, it won't be long at all.

Farther Along

There is an old gospel song called Farther Along, by R.E. Winsett. The words are as follows:

Tempted and
tried we're oft made to wonder

Why it should
be thus all the day long

While there are
others living about us

Never molested
though in the wrong

Monday afternoon, I had to go into the city and decided I'd come back along the river so I could take advantage of the sunshine and take some pictures for another website. Augusta has this one intersection that is really tricky, and if I live here for 100 years, I'll never get it right. There I was sitting in the middle of the intersection waiting for two other cars to make their moves. Suddenly they both started beeping their horns. Then there was a car behind me too, and I'm reasonably certain that poor women must have been deaf because she was using sign language to communicate with me. Finally, after a moment of shear dread and panic, I realized that I was the only person without a stop sign.

Then just as I put my foot on the accelerator and started to make my turn, the car coming toward me decided he had waited long enough and turned right. I nearly hit him and slammed on my breaks. Looking in my rearview mirror, that poor deaf lady was signing me again. You know that sign that said Welcome to Augusta right before I got to that intersection? Well, Augusta really didn't seem all that welcoming to me today.

As if that wasn't bad enough, I drove on down Main Street whereupon I saw the meanest lady in the town unpacking her car. Now this lady, Sandra, opened a new restaurant in town, which I'm sure is excellent. (Just because the lady is mean, doesn't mean she can't cook. I've tasted her food and it's usually very good.) Sandra has a new vehicle. Last year, she drove a Ford; this year, she is driving a BMW!

Why does it always seem like people who are mean to us get so many blessings? Oh I know the answer. It's because their blessings aren't really blessings. They are material things that will bloom and fade, but once they're gone, well.. they're gone forever. As a Christian, I'm laying up treasures in Heaven. Sure a BMW would be nice but I'll never have one, and I'd probably wreck it if I did.

I admit that I have prayed for Sandra for about a year now. I want God to bless her and her family, because at one point Sandra was my friend. I should look at that BMW as an answer to my prayers for her (but I admit I'm not quite there... yet.) I do want those drivers who were impatient with me to have a little more patience in their lives, to have a bit more grace. I want those things for myself.... not patience. I don't want patience.

Farther along,
we'll know all about it.
Farther along,
we'll understand why.
Cheer up my
brother. Live in the sunshine.
We'll understand it all by and by.
.