GLORY! GLORY! HALLELUJAH!

It is 6:45 A.M. on Friday morning, July 5.  Daughter Dee, son Jeff and daughter-in-law Carla are far up the Tehachapi Mountain Park trail well on their way to the summit that overlooks land extending all the way to the Grapevine, the gateway to the Los Angeles basin. I am languishing at the foot of the trail,  in a comfortable camp armchair designed for grandmothers who languish.  Through the trees, perhaps a quarter mile away,  I hear a daddy chopping wood for his family's breakfast campfire. I don't hear any childrens' chatter;  they are probably still hunkered down deep into their sleeping bags, anticipating the first whiff of sizzling bacon.  I am not jealous of this family scene; rather I am grateful that I am not scurrying around to build memories by producing a breakfast under primitive conditions.

At the top of the redwoods far above me,  woodpeckers are sounding their first rat-a-tat-tat.  Down on the forest floor, a few feet in front of me,  a squirrel is frisking around on a frantic search for a possible tidbit dropped by yesterday's camper.  All of these sounds are exaggerated by the total silence that is unique to the deep forest. Memories of countless hiking and camping trips are flooding my mother-mind. ...and I am wholly at peace.

Yesterday some of my family gathered below our house at the soccer field for a pancake breakfast prepared by a local service club. We laughed and chatted with friends who dropped by and watched the launching of a half-dozen hot-air balloons carrying their passengers into the blue skies above. Stomachs satisfied, we lined up alongside the road to watch the parade pass by. It was grand!

Next we trooped with the crowd to the nearby lake,  lined with booths displaying the crafts created by local residents over the long,  colder-than-usual winter that lasted until about two weeks ago. We found our place under the cool shade of the trees beside pretty little Cub Lake, sang our beloved national anthem, listened to the band and feasted on tri-tip sandwiches and bowls of something or other. The guys took a snooze on the grass. The girls made their way through the streams of shoppers. I napped.  Before long, we went to our respective homes.   Later some of us joined the crowd at the rodeo and some of us joined the rest of Tehachapi on the football field to listen to our Tehachapi Symphony Orchestra.  This is the first year in many that I have not played with my fellow musicians. Now, let's see:  Why did I decide it was time to draw this part of my life to a close?  I can't quite remember.  ...then the finale:  the traditional fireworks display viewed by the combined rodeo and concert crowds. Yesterday,  Friday, the hike, a long nap, and last night dinner at Dee's with four of the grandchildren showing up!  Joy!

I am going to end this blog with some mother/grandmother thoughts. Many of you know that we have suffered nearly unbearably from the double Home goings of our beloved Ted and Doug. Only this time did I sense for me,  an unexplainable  "closure".  Late last night Jeff and I climbed the winding steps to the Family Oak above our home.  We stood by the night lights that illuminate Ted's headstone and bowed our heads in prayer and gratitude for the rich spiritual legacy he left us. The nine-hundred year-old oak under which we stood  has observed parts of the history of three generations of Stones.  Both sons were married and five of the six grandchildren were committed to Christ Jesus by their parents under its giant limbs. Many days have been spent beneath its shade, watching the grandchildren pretending to be the Lion King as they balanced precariously on the top of "Pride Rock". 

Down below our house Uncle Doug, Jeff and Brent built a tree house high in another giant oak. Below a rope swing was hung from a high branch, inviting each child to wrap their legs around it and circle wildly in a huge arc. Now the swing hangs still and the tree house waits perhaps for the next generation to climb up into it and sign their names on the wall below those of the generation of cousins before.

Now it is Saturday morning.  I have just watched Jeff and Carla wind their way down my driveway on their way back to their lives as servants of the living Christ in Sacramento.  I will wrap up this blog, take a nap,  then head into town to the Apple Shed and entertain probably a holiday crowd at the Apple Shed.  For a brief time, I have been able to lay aside the worries about America's future.  Perhaps in upcoming blogs,  I will take the fork in the road that leads back to writing my stories that so many of you say you enjoy.  All of you can read, think and PRAY!  Perhaps you don't need me to philosophize or warn.  Perhaps I will just float, reminiscing,  into Heaven.  After all, my Savior went on ahead to prepare a place for me.  Meanwhile,

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never sound retreat
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat
O, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! Be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.

GLORY! GLORY! HALLELUJAH!
GLORY! GLORY! HALLELUJAH!
WHILE GOD IS MARCHING ON!

Love,

Jo