My Favorite Day

Yesterday was our annual Thanksgiving meal and testimony time at church.  I was visiting with a friend at church, Miss Kathy, and told her that "Today is my favorite day!".  And it's true.  I love the holiday season so much.  And last night's meal was the kickoff to my favorite time of year.

I love putting up our tree.  I love planning gifts.  I love wrapping gifts, buying gifts, marking things on and off the kids' gift lists. 

I love when they draw names, when we plan our shopping days. I love to see them in their matching pajamas.  I love going to Mammaw's and Grandmother's.  

I love Christmas music, Christmas lights, Christmas movies.  I love the lull between the rush and the New Year.  We do a puzzles and read books and take naps and eat easy.

But all days really ought to be our favorite. This was a lesson that Khloe taught me years ago.  A few times a week she would cry out "This is the best day of my life!".  I loved hearing that.  How God must love hearing that from us.  He gives us these days after all.  

I'm going into and hopefully coming out of this season of celebration with that attitude in my heart and mind.

"Today is my favorite day!"

Cries in the Night

Khloe and Cameron have shared a room most of their lives.  We split them up a few weeks ago because they’re almost eight, and it was time.  We moved Khloe next door so Cameron could stay in a familiar environment, but still, he didn’t handle it well.  We knew the first night would be hard for him, but, my goodness, the drama…

At first, everything was okay, he could talk to both Khloe and Autumn through the walls.  But once the lights went out, things went downhill quickly.  Picture the room with me.  He has a twin bed that takes up most of the room on one side, he has a desk, a chair, and a large white shelf that he builds and plays on.  He has a toy box and a soft clothes hamper.  His room is carpeted and pretty small. And like I said, we moved Khloe, not him, so he has been sleeping in this space for a few years.  

But once the lights went out, we heard him crying out to his sisters.  “I can’t find my bed!” he wailed.  

They responded with encouragement to get him to his bed.  

Amidst extreme tears, he continued, “I can’t find my bed.  OUCH!”

The girls continued trying to guide him to his bed.  “Cameron!  Find your white thing!”  

“I can’t find it! OUCH!”

They would try again.  “Cameron, walk away from my voice.  Your bed is against the wall.”

His distress made them much more considerate and sincere than usual.  However, when I checked on him through the camera, and his distressed cries rang out, I had to laugh.   

“OUCH!”  he cried again.

I’m sure they assumed he was running into his chair or his desk or his wall.  He was quite convincing.  However, the camera showed a much different picture than what his sisters were envisioning.  The image on that screen was a little boy sitting on his bed.  He wasn’t looking for his bed.  He wasn’t dangerously running into things at high speeds.  He was ON HIS BED.  He was crying out for comfort, or attention, and probably also to vent his frustration at his new situation.  

I’m not sure how this sounds to you, but to me, in that moment, and even now, I think about times when I have been angry, stressed, hurt, confused.  And I cried out to the Lord and He heard me.  He knew I wasn’t in real danger, but He promised me He’d never leave me.  He was there with me in all those situations, whether or not they were serious.  He was with me because He said He would be, and because I believed Him enough to reach out.  (Deuteronomy 31:8) “And the LORD, he it is that doth go before thee; he will be with thee, he will not fail thee, neither forsake thee: fear not, neither be dismayed.”

Wherever we go, He is with us.  

Echoes Down the Row

We sit on the very last pew on the right-hand side of church.  It’s the perfect pew for us.  It’s near the back in case we need to sneak out, and with a big family, it seems like someone always needs to do that.  It also has a nice view of everyone and everything.   We have a soft, folded blanket in the corner marking our spot.  It’s nice to bundle under it on a cool day in the sanctuary.

I have a Bible bag that sits by me– it’s a striped satchel that holds gum, mints, lotion, Tylenol, a bottle of water, a dozen or more church bulletins, a few handfuls of candy wrappers, and all of our Bibles for church.  It gets unloaded when the kids pour out of the Tahoe in the parking lot and reloaded with everyone’s Bibles at the end of the church service.

We were sitting in our pew close to the end of a service awhile back, and I sensed the sermon was almost over.  Without thinking, I closed my Bible.  I thought I was doing it quietly, but I noticed that down the pew, Bible after Bible closed.  Rodney’s, Elizabeth’s, Henry’s, Charles’s.  Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk.  I didn’t realize they were watching me.  I don’t even know if they were aware; it was more like intuition.  Momma closed her Bible.  Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk.  If it wouldn’t have caused a commotion, I would have gasped.  It was startlingly evident that my actions were being echoed, and my kids didn’t even realize they were doing it. I had no idea they were watching me in that moment.

But they are always watching!  Deuteronomy 4:9 tells us to “…keep thy soul diligently, lest thou forget the things which thine eyes have seen, and lest they depart from thy heart all the days of thy life: but teach them thy sons, and thy sons' sons." 

I’m aware of purposeful teaching, but this blind mimicry took me aback.  It shouldn’t have.  I know that how we act is more impactful than what we say.  I suppose I needed this lesson though.  I needed a thunk, thunk, thunk to my thick skull reminding me that I am making decisions that will impact and resound for years to come. 

Dear Jesus, help me make the right ones.

Cameron

Cameron is seven. His favorite color is blue. His favorite number is 100. His favorite food is "cooked". When he grows up, he wants to be a "dad". His favorite animal is a caterpillar, and he likes to "eat".

A Good Neighbor (Part Two)

Living out in the country has some beautiful rewards.  The scenery is terrific.  Dogs freely roam with you to visit your neighbors.  Your yard can have a pine grove.  You can see horses and large oaks from your window.  However, there are some drawbacks.  For us and our neighbors, the Hargroves, we were at the end of the water line, and our water pressure was terrible.  Oma and I grumbled together about this when we’d fill a mop bucket or do dishes.  Pretty soon, I began thinking of her each time I ran the water if the pressure was low.  And there at the sink, the Holy Spirit made a gentle suggestion.  This began a habit of connecting people to commonplace things and using that connection to remember them in prayer.  So now, when I saw that water slowly pouring, I didn’t sigh and bemoan the injustice of rural water lines.  Instead, I took the time to pray for her and Mr. Hargrove. 

This happened with other relationships too.  I have a wonderful friend named Blair.  We met in the perinatal unit of the hospital in Anchorage.  We both had complicated pregnancies, and both our little ones wound up in the NICU for quite some time.  Amazingly enough, we kept in touch, and she wound up moving to Arkansas and lives not far from me now.  Last summer we went to the lake and had lunch on the beach there.  She made sandwiches, one of which was a peanut butter and jelly made in the most interesting of ways.  And ever since, when I spread out the bread to make a sandwich (or ten), I think of her.  And my boring sandwich making time becomes a chance to bring her before the Lord and thank him for this friendship and this terrific person I get to have in my life.

But back to my neighbor, Ms. Oma.  As Rodney grew up, life got busier, and her health declined.  We didn’t get to visit on a regular basis anymore, and one day, I got word that she had passed away.  Weeks and months later, however, my thoughts still turned to her when I’d run water for very long.  So where do all those prayers go now?  Again, the Holy Spirit answered.  Mrs. Hargrove wasn’t there any longer to pray for her family members and friends.  And what a loss for them!  I know she was such an advocate for her family.  So for a long time afterwards, when the water would flow, I’d remember her loved ones and offer prayers on her behalf for them.  Of course, they never knew, and they’ll never know, but that’s okay – that wasn’t the point.  The point of it all honestly, is to listen to the Lord, follow the Holy Spirit’s leaning, and you’ll follow a path you never expected.  The blessings are there waiting.   Take the walk, say hi to the neighbor, love them, invest in them, and make it a habit to pray for them.  And then, should they head home to Jesus before you do, divert those prayers in a new direction. 

We are assured that when we pray according to His will, those prayers never go unheard.  “And this is the confidence that we have in him, that, if we ask any thing according to his will, he heareth us: And if we know that he hear us, whatsoever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we desired of him.”  1 John 5:14-15 (KJV)

A Good Neighbor (Part One)

One of my most rewarding relationships came out of the blue when I pushed myself out of my comfort zone and got to know an elderly neighbor.  I can see a few of the motivations now that I might not have been aware of at the time.  I missed my Grandma Reba and wanted my son to have and know someone similar to her.  I thought Mrs. Hargrove might be that.  There were a few other incentives.  With a toddler as my companion, I needed adult conversation.  Plus, I’ve always enjoyed old-fashioned notions of sitting on a front porch shelling peas or shucking corn and simply letting time pass. I’d also recently found out Mrs. Hargrove was wheelchair-bound, so maybe she’d be interested in some companionship too.  I say all this knowing the real reason was that the Lord was pushing me to literally “love my neighbor”, and, oh, I’m so thankful that I listened.

So on a nice spring day, with the Holy Spirit nudging me on, little Rodney and I tentatively set off.  The walking pathway to the Hargrove’s was charming.  There was a pine grove beside our house that led to a field that sloped toward a tiny stream with water gurgling through.  Over this was a small well-worn bridge just large enough for the two of us to cross.  Once we crossed over, their dog joined our walk.  We passed a field of horses and a huge oak with a tire swing. An old barn held antique tractors and hay bales and surely memories of horseback riding and the echoing laughter of long ago children climbing oaks and swaying in tree swings.   The Hargrove’s tidy brown brick house waited for us at the top of a grassy knoll.  I took a deep breath and prayed that our visit would be welcome.  When we arrived at the porch, I smiled at the little one holding my hand, and shyly knocked on the door to say hello. 

And for the next few years, Rodney and I made that walk a few times a month.  I started helping Mrs. Hargrove (we called her Oma by now) do chores.  We sorted through old piles of magazines and junk mail.  She placed Rodney in a routine that included a large, cushioned recliner, cartoons, and cookies.  We talked about everything. We drank soda. We cleaned.  We had lemon icebox pie.  She shared a lot of herself; I got attached. 

And for the rest of my life, I’ll have memories of a lady that I loved.  And, yes, it was hard.  I like people, but a big part of me likes to stay home and cocoon myself in the comfortable.  But we can’t be a light at home under our covers of comfort.  So, if there’s a recurring heartbeat asking you to step out and say hello, to engage and invest in someone or something nearby, do it.  Follow our Lord’s commands in Matthew (22:37-39), in Luke (10:27), in John (15:12-13), and in Galatians (5:13-14), and go, do, serve, love.  

Be Ready

During the last tornado season, we were under a watch that looked like it would turn into a warning.  As is typical in central Arkansas, this was right around bedtime and the watch would last through the early hours of the night. Just in case we needed to head to the underground shelter down the road, when I put our younger kids to bed (ages 7, 7, and 8), I asked them to keep their shoes on and be ready in case we needed to go.

Throughout the evening, we kept our eye on the weather channel and went about our typical nighttime routine.  A little after ten, when my husband told me that it looked like the weather was going to be fine, I remembered that Autumn, Cameron, and Khloe hadn’t been put properly to bed.  I quietly opened the doorway to their bedrooms expecting to find them each asleep.  Instead, the minute I opened their doors, out they rushed with overeager faces. 

“Is it time to go?”

“I’m ready!”

“Let’s go, Momma!”

Autumn was wearing her cardigan, Cameron had on his sun hat, and Khloe was wearing an extra shirt and two pairs of pants.  They each had shoes on and had packed a bag “just in case”.

Tears came to my eyes at their enthusiasm.  Immediately, my heart was pricked with the sense that this is how our Lord wants us to be when He returns.  We may not have our bags packed, but our hearts should be waiting eagerly for that trumpet to sound.  Yes, we can work and play and live in the meantime, but never should we get so wrapped up in our lives that we don’t listen and prepare our hearts and minds for His coming.

My kids didn’t forget my directions.  Let’s pray we don’t forget our Father’s directives.  His expectations are clear and true and can be found all throughout the New Testament, particularly in Matthew (24:42-51), Luke (12:35-36), 1 Thessalonians (5:2-6), and Revelation (3:3).

Will you be ready?    

Someone is all grown up!

I started this blog and dedicated so much time to it back when Rodney was a wee little thing.  It's been a lot of years since those days.  

I posted this on Facebook and Grandmother suggested adding it here to so we can look back on it.  

 

Happy Birthday, Elizabeth!

It's hard to believe now that the 17-year-old we met is now 23!  She had a great birthday this month.  What a blessing she has been on this long journey.  The Lord absolutely knew we'd need and appreciate her every single day.  

Her joy is for babies and she is excitedly preparing to do respite for foster babies once we have more room.  

Here's a "few" of our favorite memories with Elizabeth (whose name means "God's Promise").