Recalling joy in the Cumberland Mountains
OPINION —
Living a life filled with love must begin in the home with the family. A preacher cannot share authentic love with others if his family views him as a “street angel and a house devil.” Fortunately, despite our faults, Dean and I loved each other and we loved our children.
We loved them more than usual because we had lost our first son to leukemia at age three. We were profoundly thankful that God blessed us with four more fine sons. Our love led us to spend time with them when they were young, often taking them camping. They remember wonderful weeks spent in Redwood National Park in California and the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness of Minnesota.
Another memorable outing occurred while we were living in Nashville. On a weekend in April we packed our bags and took off for the mountains, just to get out of town for a night or two. Without a reservation or any planning, we drove about a hundred miles southeast of Nashville to a beautiful state park that had cabins for rent. We rented one with a fireplace and were soon happily gathered around a roaring fire while Mom prepared sandwiches for supper.
I can close my eyes and still see that rustic cabin, the stone hearth, those big logs burning, and the smiles on our faces. If I were to build a place in the mountains, I would model it after that cabin. We stayed only one night, and we never went back, but it seems like only yesterday that we were there.
That night a gentle snow began to fall and, to our joyful surprise, by morning the ground was covered with God’s lovely white blanket. I can still see the sun glistening through those snow-covered pine, oak and cedar trees as we walked around, watching the boys romp and play. The snow was just right for making snowballs; we threw a lot of them at each other on a magnificent day made for fun.
The snow surprised us for spring was almost gone. The date was April 18, an easy day to remember since it was the day our first son David was born. On that day the weather was not pleasant in Auburn where Dean and I lived. Dr. Ben Thomas had to drive through a torrential rain to deliver David at what is now East Alabama Medical Center. It was on that day in 1953 that a vicious tornado ripped through Lee County, destroying many homes and property.
So, there we were, in that secluded mountain hideaway, playing in the snow but also remembering David, and the tornado that torn the roof off of our rented home. Dean and I were thankful for the contrast: joy with our boys instead of the pain and anxiety of birth, and the gentle snow rather than fierce wind and rain.
For a few hours we were free from the cares of life, with no schedule to meet, no hectic sounds of busy city life, and hardly anyone around to distract us. There was no buying and no selling, no horns being blown by impatient drivers, no yelping by neighborhood dogs.
Many times my mind has gone back to that mini-vacation and the good feeling shared by our family. It was not expensive. It did not require a lot of travel. It was a simple setting, with no rides, no games or cotton candy. It was peaceful and relaxing. There was no family spat brewing and the boys played together without the friction and arguments that sometimes spoiled our outings.
Is my memory of that trip so positive because it was such a pleasant experience? Or because of the awesome beauty of that location? I don’t know. I do know that I am thankful I have not forgotten that marvelous time in the Cumberland Mountains of Tennessee when the snow that fell upon us seemed filled with our loving Father’s joy.
On lazy days, when the rain is peppering down outside, and my mind wanders back to the ineffable delight of those days when our boys were growing up, I wonder if they also remember some good times we shared as a family. I hope they do.
I hope that, forgetting the bad times, they will remember growing up in a home filled with love, with a Mom and Dad who were constantly asking the Lord to help us all live lives filled with love.
