Nails, Turkey, and Church in the Round

Back in June of '10 I posted a picture of my nails. My nasty nails. I've prayed for years that I would stop picking them. And somehow in mid-October, it happened. I stopped. I realized it hurt to pick them and I was tired of hurting myself.

Some days I wonder if it has anything to do with increasing my B-12 intake. My B-12 numbers have always been low and in mid August, I decided to work on them. When they were checked last, they were in the 800's - higher than ever.

Whether God divinely touched me or God and high levels of B-12 calmed my non-stop picking, I'm amazed. I have nails. Ten of them. My cry was heard. After years of bloody cuticles, my nails look healthy and whole.

I still have a list of unanswered prayers - many that seem more important than whether my nails are long or short. But when I look at my white tips, I'm reminded that no matter what's on that list, my God will take care of it in His time, in His way.

As the holidays approached and Don and I haggled over how to manage our blended families, I got this crazy idea to host the meals at our home. I'd never hosted a Thanksgiving meal, turkey and all, just like I'd never grown long nails.

We worked together all day Wednesday so we could serve both a breakfast and a mid afternoon lunch on Thursday. I was tired, as in spastic leg tired. But we did it.







We gave thanks with Catherine and Hazel and their families at breakfast...










And with another round of family at lunch...







I rested in my PJ's all day Saturday so I could sing with our worship team on Sunday. Our church, Sanctuary, worships around a stage that represents the throne of God. Having not sung on a worship team in over seven years (until two weeks ago!), it feels like I'm living another first when I stand to sing.

Nails, turkey, and worship in the round all reminded me that He has His ways. He has His timing. And as we trust and walk with faith, transformation comes. Sometimes with a loud clang, but most often with a gentle whisper... and broken nails grow.

Sammy's Small World Homecoming Date

Monday through Thursday, I teach voice and piano for two to three hours. To represent this part of my life, I've decided to share a small world story in honor of Lili, a second grader, who insisted on singing It's a Small World for our recital this weekend.

My son, Sammy received a last minute invite to a homecoming dance a few weeks ago. I didn't know his date, Annie, so I looked forward to meeting her and her family.

After our initial greeting in the foyer of their home, we headed towards the back porch for pictures. As we walked past the roar of college football on TV, my husband, Don, asked, "Who's playing?"

Annie's dad, Skip, replied, "Navy vs. Notre Dame," and then continued with something like, "I'm a Naval Academy alum and a big fan."

I turned towards him and froze in my steps, "Which class?"

His answer made me smile, "65'"

Knowing my dad is also a class of 65' Naval Academy grad, I told him with total confidence, "You know my dad, Bob Snelling."

Skip seemed as surprised as I was at the connection. For not only does he know my dad, he knows him well. My dad delivered a singing Valentine to his wife just last February –with his barbershop quartet—in the very room we were standing in. He had also just sent a donation to my dad’s campaign since he’s running for state office again—something I haven’t talked about much.

But what got me most about the small world connection was that I learned the man in front of me; this guy called, Skip; the father of my son's date had been behind one of the most out of the box memories I have of my dad. Here's the photo:



I wasn’t there. No one from our family was. But while mom was singing with the Atlanta Symphony Chorus at Carnegie Hall, dad was rockin’ it out with Skip’s band in Annapolis at their 45th Naval Academy reunion. Dad even rewrote the lyrics to an old blues tune and pulled out the best costume apparel he could find. If only we had a recording. Still, the picture speaks volumes.

My dad is ever evolving in this small world that still surprises.

I enjoyed Sammy's small world homecoming date. Moments like that comfort me. They remind me that big, sometimes seemingly messy things, are intertwining into small moments that have a bigger purpose. So here's one more close up look at my dad at his finest. And kudo's to Skip for getting him out of his box.