Love Can Build a Bridge

This was another side of my family that I’m sure gave me the wanderlust bug. Five sisters, Grandma Deloris, her twin, Doris, Henrietta (Het), Verda (Vert), and Maxine. Sisters and their husbands would spend much time together–adventuring across the U.S.A. in a van (wonder where I get it?). One van even came to pick me up at age 18 after a trip to Mexico. They were all adventurous and fun. When my parents would be gone on trips, we stayed with great aunt Vert and great uncle Charlie. Their basement was a museum to me. The smell is in my soul. Old trunks, clothes, books, games, and mannequins… it was if I was part of another world. In that basement I was a librarian, pool player, researcher, historian, and detective (Nancy Drew, preferably).

It was Christmas 1990-something. In that living room sat my parents, MANY cousins, aunts, uncles, great aunts, great uncles, and my grandparents. I often wonder if my own sons remember the wooden marble maze made by great uncle “Snuffy”. It wouldn’t be Christmas if we didn’t hear the sounds of the marbles and a LOT of laughter (or eat Aunt Vert’s Cowboy Beans). I wanted to hear EVERY story my family told. Grandpa was sitting on the couch. Someone asked my twin and I to sing, “Grandpa” by The Judd’s. You see, singing at the Grand Ol Opry seemed like a great dream, too. But that meant being in front of a lot of people-church was a “safe” place to sing, but oh the nerves! But with family? I can barely get through any song without crying. Kristy could pull us through. Our twin powers would activate and we could muster the strength to entertain all the older members of the family. And yes, we one time sang “Love Can Build a Bridge”.

As we near closer to Mother’s Day I have to share how my Momma would have ALL of them around her Sunday table as much as possible (you should all know about my Momma’s table by now ;-). How fortunate was I that I grew up in such an environment? Two different sides of the family. Many different beliefs, backgrounds, and personalities. No cell phones were present. All of our attention was on each other. Yes, I was young, married, working, and with small children. We checked in with each other when we weren’t together. Yes, it was exhausting at times taking the kids to every family event and function. But as life seemed to unravel around me at times, I realize it was those special memories and times that kept my heart pumping. God nods. He just knows.

In honor of Naomi and those that have suffered with mental illness, you’re not alone. If you have NEVER felt despair or loneliness, you are blessed. There’s a LOT of good in our world today–HOWEVER, there’s a lot that can be better. We can always be better. We can be kinder. Gentler. Understanding. We live in such an argumentative world. Everyone wants to be right. Step over the line and extend a hand. Don’t slam a Bible on someone’s head and tell them you know the problem. That ain’t gonna fix it. Admit your mistakes and move on. If we genuinely desire for others to KNOW God,…to BELIEVE in his goodness, then we need to stop putting people in boxes (oh, the divorcees go here, the ones with issues go here, health issues go in this box, while we’re at it, let’s throw the “old” ones in this box, put the teenagers over there). What works? LOVE. Love is the ONLY thing that will build a bridge.

Due to illness I didn’t complete my past poem posts before April ended! Here’s one I wrote in 2021.

Shackled Assurance 

It’s a prison I don’t wish to escape.
It’s a confinement with confidence. 
It’s finding your voice without a need to use it.
It’s seeking his will-not probing for problems.

It’s bravery with buoyancy. 
It’s being hitched with hope.
It’s being fastened to faith.
It’s being restrained by radiance.

I’m shackled with assurance,
there’s beauty between the bars.
A cell of contentment 
is a surrender to the scars.

If you feel you’re in prison
How do you find the key?
It’s been with you for life,
unlock love and be free. 

K.L. Hale 

 
Photo by Polina Kovaleva on Pexels.com
Photo by Vie Studio on Pexels.com

I cannot say thank you enough to my parents (I realize that I’m so blessed to have them–I’ll never take them for granted) for bringing me chicken noodle soup, sugar free cake, and goodies and to my neighbors, Sara and Vern, for picking up my groceries, and my friend, Rita, for bringing medicine. My friend, Nicky, for helping, and my other friends and family who checked on me. To my WP family and friends–thank you for hanging in here with me and wishing me well. I’ve never quite experienced anything like Covid before. It may take a bit to get strength back. But after having it, the world looks brighter! To all of you, I hope you have faith and good health. If you ever need prayer or you feel hopeless, email me. Do you really know how much you’re loved?

Repurpose, Reuse, Reduce

At the beginning of the month, I shared that I would repost SOME poetry I’ve written since I began blogging. Here it is…the LAST week of April. Repurposing and reusing works! It’s amazing to reflect on past poems to affirm feelings of change and growth. How could a pandemic NOT change us? I wrote of heads being down, communication and collaboration limitations, and division in our country. And of roots. Roots are strong. Mine have kept my faith grounded. My reality, however, has shifted with the swirls of the seasons. At any given moment, growth can seem stunted. Pruning is necessary. The right conditions can spur growth. You must do the work. You can’t wilt and withdraw in the waiting.  Healthy nurturing includes REDUCING stress and REUSING your resolve repeatedly. For me, it’s taken half of my life to figure out my crop seasons. I’m in a place, after 7 years, where the hope I’ve written about these last 2 years is growing. I didn’t find it through social media. Healing didn’t happen by continuing to ignore the hurt that has held me for so long. I didn’t find it through being “better.” Becoming more Christ-like isn’t about being a better version of yourself; it’s about totally emptying yourself and being honest about who you are. I still feel anger, sadness, and confusion at times. But what I found that has saved my life was inside me the whole time. I had to stop listening to others around me or keeping myself in a “box” that was determined by societal norms. This is a hard one—if you can ignore the hate and rudeness, if possible, please do so! I pray you don’t allow a passive-aggressive world determine your self-worth. I’m not naïve to think that everyone is nice. I’ve had very hurtful things said. I’ve said hurtful things. If you have limitations due to your health, please let those around know specifically what they are and how you best navigate life. What I’m trying to share is simply, don’t give up. No matter the repeats, don’t give up…on YOU. Find the YOU you’re meant to be. You’re enough. Empty the hurt with helpful friends. Lean in to hear HIS whispers. Find your garden. Rest in it. Surround yourself with its beauty. You don’t have to hide. Hurl the hurt towards heaven. It may not take away the pain at times, but it sure feels good to throw it out! You’re never alone! God sees you and he loves you just the way you are.

He will repurpose, reuse, and reduce what he feels necessary…not only does this sound Earth-friendly, but Heaven-friendly also!

Take root

What are you sowing?
What will you reap?
Will your harvest be plenty?
How heavenly your heap? 

Placing the seed is the easiest part.
The digging and raking go straight to the heart.
The surface seems scorched and barren to sight,
Keep cultivating and find the soil quite right.

New growth may occur
With a scattering toss,
Without proper maintenance,
You may experience all loss.

That which you fertilize
Will find certain success
Without nutrients and attention
It’s bound to get stressed.

Use the light of the sun,
Block out all substitutes.
Given time, love, and patience,
It’s bound to take root.  

K.L. Hale

Taken by me at Table Rock State Park Dewey Short Trail, Earth Day 2022
Taken by me at Table Rock State Park Dewey Short Trail, Earth Day 2022

AND THERE’S MORE! A Weekend of Music–Branson, Missouri

If you’ve heard of Branson, MO, then you know it’s considered a mecca of music. Some think of us as a hick-town with hick music. Well, folks, we ain’t all hicks, but we do have roots. Me? I love it all–gospel, OLD country, soft rock, americana, folk, Broadway, jazz, and MoTown. I feel I’ve led a million lives in music. This weekend I experienced a bit of all of it. Sprinkle in awesome comedy and a good time was had by all! Seriously, the tour bus attendees from ALL across the U.S. had me in stitches (what am I to do with your generation???). And yes, I’m still going to get goosebumps when over 1/2 the audience stands to be recognized as Veterans. It’s a big deal to me. The sacrifice these men and women made (and do make) have impacted my life–personally. When the crazy fun group from Abilene, Texas shouted out I shared about my sons in the Air Force and future placements. These fun folks had a lot to say to this Momma. I stood there as a Mom thinking of my daughter-in-laws who gave up comforts of home to serve as military wives. Call me old-fashioned, but it’s not a just a job to me if only 1% of our nation heeds the call. Our country is impacted by extremism. At a time where the red and blue lines divide, music can heal. So does kindness and lots of laughter. I hope you enjoy these two little clips.

Have faith! 💛

Lasting Legacy

Five regions make up “The Ozarks” and I sit in the Springfield Plateau, closer to the White River Hills, which includes Branson and south to Mountain Home Arkansas. The peaks in the Ozarks of Arkansas are mole hills to some of you folks. Nestled in our rolling hills and plateaus are beautiful lakes, rivers, streams, and trails. Amid them, minus a bit of traffic near our “big” cities, if you listen…really listen, you might hear legacies leaving their sweet melodies. Even better? A living legacy.

K.L. Hale

Barn Burner

Older Ozarkians might describe last night’s event a barn burner. Small town and big city folks, combined with the young-un’s like me and the “older” generations, all gathered for ham and beans, cornbread, and bluegrass music. There was clappin’ and knee-slappin.’ Whoops and hollers could be heard with a good run of notes. Laughter lingered after the whoppers were told. My toes were tappin,’ and my soul was swirling with the sounds of times before me-and the times I wish would never change.

Only in the Ozarks, after nearly a foot of snow, would a Cabin Fever Variety Show be quickly scheduled for the community. And to beat all, I learned of a society (RIGHT UNDER MY NOSE) that was formed to PRESERVE the history, folklore, and traditions of our area. That’s not all! They aim to protect Ozarks’ wildlife, secure its proper recognition, the natural beauties of its historical spots, and to teach our own people the value of the great heritage we possess in these regions (https://societyofozarkianhillcrofters.com/our-mission).

My love and interest in my home area has only fattened since self-publishing my kid’s book. Gage, my illustrator, is an old soul like me. We often discussed our culture and traditions during our collaboration times and even chewed on the idea of a folklore project. Our culture and history are phenomenal!

If you’re familiar with this area you might be aware that the greatest interpretation of our people and ways might be felt by visiting Silver Dollar City (#2 Best Amusement Park in America by USA Today-July 2, 2021, and Best Theme Park holiday event, Old Time Christmas- Dec. 17th, 2021). It has changed with the times; yet I still find the Bluegrass & BBQ and Fall Festival to feel more like the traditional feeling of my childhood. The park’s founders have left a legacy. But I know an even greater legacy in my Ozarks.


Living Legacy

Lingering on legacies lulls me. When one thinks of a legacy you hope that whatever you leave behind is powerfully positive to whomever might be gifted it–will it be carried? Followed? Passed down? There’s been a legacy left in my family. Through tough times, good times, changing times, loss of time, everything that could happen in nearly 58 years, a legacy of love has been left. When Larry met Darlene, a Baptist preacher’s daughter, he had to toe the line. Traditions were set. Church activities would be considered “acceptable” for dates. Bowling and revivals might coincidentally be on the same nights 😉. They were small-town kids with small-town values.

Larry Hale was born 80 years ago today. He’s an overcomer-he’s left a legacy. But he’d be the first to tell you that he’s only half of any legacy-Mom’s the other half. 🤍 Oh, and did I tell you these two can sing? The legacy of music vibrates my veins. Daddy sang bass and tenor, we all sang alto and soprano! I’ve told this story before, but my youngest son one time asked my Dad, “Pop pop, can I have that fiddle?” (pointing at Great-Grandpa’s fiddle/violin hanging over Mom’s piano). “When I’m dead and gone you can have it, Jay,” Dad replied. “Aren’t you close enough to dead I could have it now?,”…oh boy! Dad was in his 50’s. The sound of laughter and music is what I hear walking into that living room.

Dad, thank you for teaching me about the Word and the never-ending, no-matter-what kind of love just as God, humility, responsibility, the right ways to swing a bat or club even if I couldn’t, shaking it off and moving ahead, wisdom on leadership, creating trip maps and then ignoring the itinerary if necessary, appreciation for history and learning…and the best? Marrying Mom. For what would we all be without her, too? You’ve been my rock. I love you both more than steak and the entire universe.

Happy 80th, Dad!


“Will the Circle Be Unbroken?” sung by the adorable and talented, Emalee Flatness. This song speaks of our family’s legacy (I can hear Grandma singing it!). Emalee is being accompanied by mandolinist, Larry Sledge, who will begin his 48th season at Silver Dollar City. He also spent time during his youth, after his service to our country, with Bill Monroe.
Legacy? The Ozark Mountain Music Association preserves and promotes traditional music of the Ozarks. They host an annual music camp and young musicians are mentored by experienced ones! Starting with the banjo player here are their ages: 20, 16, 17, and 13. They brought the house down, folks!

Some folks might not think they’ll leave any legacy, or a good one, anyway. Don’t sell yourself short. No matter the job, relationship, your IQ, your past, or whatever you feel has or hasn’t defined your life, you’re a legacy. So fix what needs fixin’ and just love what needs lovin’.

Have faith🤍

“We will not hide them from their children, but will tell the next generation the glorious deeds of the Lord, and his might, and the wonders that he has done.” –Psalm 78:4

“Grandchildren are the crown of the aged, and the glory of children is their fathers.”-Proverbs 17:6

“The great use of life is to spend it for something that will outlast it.”-William James

“The legacy we leave is not just in our possessions, but in the quality of our lives.”-Billy Graham