Month: April 2010

April 5th, Granky Day: A Celebration of Life, Love, and Laughter

If everyone knew what a few of us do, April 5 would be a national holiday. We would call it “Granky Day.” Granky Day would be a celebration of all the precious women who have lived holy lives, but refused to be “holier-than-thou.” It would be a day to celebrate a woman who exuded radiant beauty and modesty in equal parts. It would be a day to celebrate a woman whose femininity was only matched by her untiring work ethic. It would be a day to celebrate a woman whose laugh could make you laugh, even when the joke made no sense at all. April 5th is my maternal Grandmother’s birthday. Her name is Nova Dean Henager. She would have been 84 this year had she not died a few years back. She celebrated in a place where they don’t mark birthdays because no one grows old. I celebrated in a quiet place in my soul, where I remembered how blessed I was to have such a guileless, beautiful person influence my life. When she passed, one of my aunts asked me to write a piece for the commemorative brochure that would be given to all those attending her funeral. It was a great honor to me to be asked to do that. Here is what I wrote… And (Jesus) said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be...

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One Holy Moment: This Is My Body…Take, Eat | an Easter Devotional

An Easter Devotional Communion, or the Lord’s Supper, has always been a holy and solemn event to me, thanks largely to my grandfather. I would not say that Pastor Bill Henager (my mother’s father) and I had a good many bonding moments. Ours was not the kind of grandfather/grandson relationship that led to many fishing expeditions or trips to the ballpark. He was a pastor, sure, but he was a working man. If he was awake, he was probably working. And, let me tell you, he woke up mighty early. Consequently, if you got too close to him, he would likely put you to work, as well. So, as a kid I steered as clear of him as was humanly possible most of the time. Big Granddad, as we Strother kids called him, had been a farmer before he became a minister. He grew things. He raised cattle. He knew how to grow it, breed it, pick it, pull it, skin it, clean it, and cook it up. He never quit on such things. He carried them right into the ministry with him. One thing my grandfather did that made an early and lasting impression on me was he baked his own unleavened bread. While other churches served little squares (or wafers, if you were Catholic or Episcopal) that were mass-produced in some factory somewhere, the members of our...

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