Seven, the number of perfection

I sit in the back of the car surrounded by quiet, peaceful sleepers. The sun's golden light quickly fades behind the gray Tennessee mountains. And I can't help but think how very blessed I am. For one thing, we all needed that vacation. And what better way to spend it in the mountains surrounded by those you love and those who love you? For another thing, God has blessed us with not eight, but a big ol' family of NINE. We kids have grown from six to seven - seven, the number of perfection. 
Ermias is the newest addition to the Crampton Crew and has many endearing traits and talents, such as making crazy silly faces, breaking out the dance moves (especially when anything by Michael Jackson comes on the radio), singing, cuddling, and laughing. And, boy, can that kid laugh. With his laughter, he could make a hyena smile, Puddle Glum giggle, and Eeyore would surely bust a gut. Oh, how I love him.

On growing up

I'm a senior.

I'll be 17 before I know it.

I'm looking at colleges.

When did this happen?! Last time I checked I was 9 and thinking of my college days and imagining that Future Courtney, who would know what to do, where to go, and when to do it, would come and save the day.

 Isn't it funny how, as a child, you always imagine your future self to be -- someone else? As in, not you. But now I wake up to find, I'm still me. (deep, right?) I didn't magically morph into Future Courtney. Although I have been changed since 9 (only by the grace of God), I'm still the same 9-year-old girl (plus a few years) dreaming of those seemingly far-off days when I would grow up, become a woman, and move away from home.

But now that it comes down to it, I don't want to move away from this dear old home-of-mine. Truth be told, I don't want to grow up. Truth be told, I'm scared. Truth be told...I just want to find Peter Pan and Neverland.

Sometimes I forget. I forget that I have no strength in myself. I forget that if left to myself I would never want to grow up and wouldn't be able to bear the responsibilities if I did. Praise be to God I haven't been left to myself. My strength is in Christ and Christ alone. He alone can help me to bear things I don't neccesarily want to bear and the things that I can't. He alone can guide me in the way I should go. I want to be ready to receive HIS will - whatever that may be.

"I am trusting Thee to guide me:

Thou alone shalt lead,

Every day and hour supplying

All my need." 

Frances Ridley Havergal, (Hymn 541).

The Neshoba county fair

Since 1889, ladies and gentleman, young and old, have gathered together for the attractions of the Neshoba county fair in South Mississippi. Festivities last over one week. Brightly-painted and incredibly decorated wooden cabins that have been passed down through the years from one old Southern family to another line every nook and corner of the fairgrounds. In its early beginnings, attendees would hear political candidates speak while they sat on wooden benches under the pavilion or under the nearest shady oak. They fought the penetrating heat with forceful strokes of their paper fans. Others would sit under the comfort of their cabin porches while gingerly sipping on an ice cold glass of sweet tea. When lunch time came 'round, they would take turns providing a meal of southern staples - barbecue sandwiches, potato salad, baked beans, watermelons, and fresh banana pudding for dessert. The men talked business and politics. The women spoke in quick, excited whispers about one another's hair and dress or laughed over the matches they prophesied between the young men and little ladies. The children giggled and played as all young children do. The horse and buggy races would begin in the late afternoon and all would gather to see the excitement for themselves.

The fair hasn't changed much, even after over 120 years. It still looks and feels almost the same way as it did in 1889. Men and women still come from all over to hear politicians, sit on their cabin porch, eat quintessential southern foods, fan away the July heat, watch the horse races, and visit with friends, old an new. The Neshoba county fair is like taking a glimpse at the Old South and having a small taste of simpler times.