Two Parties

Did you know sometimes God is a party crasher?
The odd thing is, I have often heard Him described as a perfect gentleman - and we all know a gentleman wouldn't come to a party without an invitation - but that's exactly what happened to me recently.
I was doing some work in our yard - bagging up leaves - after I had spent the better part of the day working at work. On the previous day - after working at work - I had also been working in the yard. And after I finished what I was presently doing in the yard, I knew I had more work ahead of me. That is, I would be going into the house to prepare dinner. AND, I felt that my efforts to support my family - through yard work, work work, and meal-prep (to name a few) - had been going largely unnoticed.
Or, at least unappreciated.
Thus, I had all the guests necessary to host a little pity-party:
Large yard bags, piles of wet and heavy partially-decomposed leaves, and enough self-righteous angst to fill and stuff, fill and stuff.
I packed those bags to the brim - stomping the leaves down as I went. In fact, I was quite proud of myself for how much work I was getting done.
The voice in my head really helped me with the stomping down of the leaves. It said things like, He probably won't say, "Thank you" for this effort of yours. And, You're doing amazing work out here. But he might not even notice. And, You deserve a pat on the back for all this work (And a massage!) but chances are you aren't going to get it. And even, Oh, and forget about 'kudos' for the great dinner you're going to make. They really don't care about it as much as you do.
Annnnd, that's just about when God came and crashed the party.
Because the next voice which spoke didn't sound whiny and sanctimonious.
Oh, it was righteous - but not in a hypocritical, pious sort of way.
And that Next Voice? It asked me if I knew why I was put on this earth. Asked me if I knew why I was still living and breathing and able to stuff those leaves into bags.
In an instant that Voice humbled me.
I went from pompously rehearsing my need for recognition, to meekly confessing my broken condition. The Party Crasher caused me to see that I was not put on this earth to receive the praises of men. Rather I was put here to give praise to the One who created all men.
He made me realize it is His grace and His mercy and His patience (fueled by His love) which allow me to continue exisiting each day. That if it weren't for these things, I wouldn't even be here to host my silly little pity-party.
And *just like that* the guest list changed.
That is, the bags and leaves stuck around. But when the Spirit of God came in, self-righteous angst got sent away and - I'm telling you - the party got infinitely better as I began to thank the One who gave me life. As I praised the One who knows my heart and meets my needs. As I surrended to the One who wanted to transform me.
Ah, yes. HE throws much better parties than I do!

When Death Makes You Think

I went to a funeral yesterday.

And I was so inspired!!!

As I listened to stories about a man whose faith was great, and whose love for family and friends was immense I found myself doing some soul-searching. Asking the question, Am I living my life in such a way that these kinds of things will be said of me at my funeral?
Oh, how I want to live a beautiful, faithful, God-honoring life.
How I want every moment to count - to make a difference for eternity.
When I come to the end of my days and I stand before my Lord, I long to hear Him say, Well done, My good and faithful servant.

And I love that in the economy of God death is not the end, and can actually inspire hope in life. Though there is sadness in the passing of this man - a hole left in the hearts of many, at the same time his legacy lives on. And we can be encouraged to emulate his faith and love.
Father, thank You for Jesus. For His atoning death which bought us life. Thank you that the earthly death of Your children is not the end, rather a beginning. And thank You for the example You gave through this saint, of a life well-lived. Please lead me today to walk in faithfulness and love.

When My Feelings Don't Matter

My plan yesterday was to exercise in the morning.
That is, when I got my work schedule last Friday and saw what my week was going to look like, I said to myself, "Self, you only have two days next week for which working out is going to be feasible. Make the most of those two opportunities."
So I got myself dressed and thought through some exercises.
But when I got downstairs and started doing said exercises? Well, I didn't feel like doing the three sets I had originally planned to complete. The truth is, I didn't even feel like completing the first set!
Actually, the truer truth is, for a moment I contemplated what might be the benefits of stopping an exercise regimine altogether.
But I knew that line of thinking was ridiculous, so I pressed on.
And I got my work-out done.
And when the third set was over I realized how glad I was that I hadn't given in to the feelings I'd had ten seconds into my first move. In fact, as I ponder it now I can say I expereinced a certain delight in pushing my want-to-quit feelings aside and replacing them with going-to-do-it-anyway determination.

Does anybody know what I'm saying???

I mean, I'm all for paying attention to cues our bodies and feelings give us about things we need to do.
Or stop doing.
Or redirect.
Or whatever.
But I am also fully aware that sometimes those cues are not for our good. Sometimes they're just excuses we employ to get us out of undesirable, uncomfortable, or unpleasant circumstances. You know, like exercising. Or changing habits. Or developing new perspectives. Or having hard conversations.
Oh, so many things we could avoid if we only listened to our feelings.
But my small victory in the basement Tuesday morning served to remind me that I don't always need to heed my feelings. And I'm asking God to give me the wisdom, the strength, and the grace to recognize those times when my feelings don't matter.

Who's with me?

Fast-Forward 18 Years

It happened again.
One of those moments in which I found myself "remembering when", and smiling at the realization that God's grace and faithfulness have consistently carried me through.
That is, yesterday morning I served at church by caring for children, so their mommies could have time with other mommies. And as I always do on those mornings, while I was getting ready for the day I was praying for the babies. Asking God to bring peace and give grace to the children, the volunteers, and the mommas - that all might have a joyful morning. (A prayer I am also whispering for this morning - as I speak for some sweet MOPS moms!)
Anyway, as I was contemplating how the morning would transpire (Always plenty of crying now, at the beginning of the year!) my mind went back to when my Josh was three years old. Almost every time I took him to the nursery on a Sunday morning - no matter how pleasant his disposition may have been up to that point - he would put up a fight.
Like, seriously.
As I attempted to pass him over the half-door he would spread out his arms and legs to brace himself in the doorframe, thinking his strength would keep him from going into the nursery. And leaving me feeling like some wicked mother for forcing her child into the loving arms of a sweet servant, when said child clearly wanted no part in it. Of course, by the time I returned to pick him up, Josh was playing and having fun and was totally happy to be in the nursery.
But those first moments.
Oh, they were hard on my momma's heart!
So, as I said, I was thinking about that memory yesterday, after I had just spent the previous evening with my family at Josh's apartment having dinner and playing games. And I smiled as I thought about my 21-year-old son, grown and learning to make his way in the world - but still needing mom 'n dad now and then. I smiled as I recalled his fits over being taken to the nursery, him not realizing at the time that life would get a lot harder. And I smiled - I'm still smiling - as I pondered the faithfulness of our God through each day and every challenge we've faced over that past 18 years. Ahhh, yes. GOD is good!

And if you're reading these words as a mother of babes, if the heartache of tearful transitions and woeful cries is what you're experiencing these days, please hear my heart for you.
It's hard. I know it is! But God is faithful, and HE will bring you through this time.
Keep holding on to HIM, dear sister.

It's My Pleasure

So, I haven't even set foot in Chick-fil-A this week.

Because I've been at church for VBS!

Lemme tell you about my week at Vacation Bible School.
Initially I was going to be in a room with 3rd and 4th grade girls.
In my imagination we were going to have fun girl-time for several minutes each day as we wandered between activities. We were going to have significant conversations about God, and grow in our relationships with Him through Jesus. The time we spent together was going to be engaging, yet calm. Intriguing, yet orderly.
That's what I do each Sunday morning.
It's what I requested and was granted.
It's my comfort zone.
It's what I wanted.
But it isn't what God planned.
Because it isn't what I needed.

Rather...
Due to the abundance of 3rd and 4th grade boys who registered for VBS, my room was turned into a girls AND boys class. (Now, I raised two boys. I'm not afraid of them, and I don't think they have cooties. But put me in a room with 12 or so of them between the ages of 8 and 10, and I get a little nervous!)
So I probably don't need to mention there were times when our little room of nearly 30 kids got kinda loud - and at times it felt like pandemonium was going to rule the day.
But, I will.
Because it did.
I mean, somehow (That would be, by the grace of God alone - through the faithful prayers of His servants.) we managed to make it from one activity to another (Even when I took us to the wrong one once!) and we covered all the lessons, and we had good discussions, and all that. But it wasn't what I had anticipated or expected or planned. And part of me felt like I was failing.
Then - on top of my fear of failure, God began addressing the needs HE saw in me.
That is, in the tender, gracious, undeniable way HE always does God alerted me to the pride which was lurking in my heart. Time and time again - even in the middle of moments when I was delighting in His love and sharing it with the kids - God's Spirit would call my attention to my sin and HE would beckon me to put on humility, instead.
Sometimes I wondered if anyone could hear it echoing in my heart.
Daughter, please put your self away. I Am the focal point. The glory is all Mine. You needn't be concerned about what they think of you, or how anyone may be evaluating your performance. None of that really matters. Just keep your eyes on Me. Keep pointing these precious children to ME.
And when I did that?
When I surrendered my will to HIS...
When I trusted HIM to reach the children in spite of the noise...
When I believed HE is able to work in ways I do not understand and did not plan...
 When I listened to my Father and did what HE said? Oh, the joy!

So, in spite of not going the way I originally believed it would, my week at VBS resulted in joyful fellowship with my Father, more hugs from my new young friends than I can count, and delightful memories which I'll cherish for a very long time to come.
Dare I say? This week was even better than a peach shake with a side of waffle fries!

OK. I'm Saying It.

There are a number of things mothers-of-grown-kids said to me when my children were young, which I swore I would never say to other young moms when mine grew up.
Because - although the words had the best intentions behind them - they did little to encourage me.
And sometimes actually did the opposite.
I mean, now I totally see the wisdom behind their words because I've made it to the other side.
In fact, there have been times when I have been tempted to say the very same things.
You know, like, "This, too, shall pass."
When? Because I keep waiting, and it's still happening.
And, "We've all been there."
Oh? So I shouldn't feel this way, because I'm not the only one? Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn't. Now I just feel guilty for feeling overwhelmed, irritable, tired, fill-in-the-blank.
Or, how about, "There will be a time when you'll miss these days!"
So not true. I still don't miss those days.
Oh, lots of the moments - to be sure. But not the entire day!!!
Indeed, those are among the statements I pray I will never say to a mother of young children.
But this past weekend I found myself thinking a thought I had when my kiddos were little, and recognizing that it may be helpful for me to verbalize it for a few moms of young 'uns out there today.
So, here goes!

I was outside cleaning the porch and washing windows. Partly delighted with myself for getting it done, and partly ashamed that it has taken so long. (Can it still be considered "Spring Cleaning" if July hasn't arrived yet?) Anyway, I was doing it. And I was astonished at how dirty the porch was.
See, the thing is, years ago Josh turned our porch and its immediate area into a bird sanctuary.
Several bird feeders fill the space and - up until he moved out several months ago - Black Oil Sunflower seeds consistently filled the feeders.
And something I've learned about birds?
They're messy and they don't clean up after themselves.
What that means specifically for our situation is that we have more sunflower seed shells filling the landscape than I could ever count. And in case you were wondering, mertyle doesn't grow well when buried by sunflower seed shells. Some of the weeds managed to push through, but the mertyle is being choked out. What once looked like semi-decent landscaping just looks like piles of shells now. With some languishing mertyl and weeds mixed in.
So as I was sweeping sunflower seed shells off the porch (Because they got all over the porch, too.) into the mertyl (Because, why not? It's dying, anyway.) and recalling all the times I had wished our porch entrance looked nicer, I remembered how much joy came to my son when he could claim that all the birds in the neighborhood liked our house best. Because no one else took care of feeding them with as much love and attention as he did.
Seriously.
This kid used his own money to buy the best bird seed - because he researched and found out what the birds really liked. He would fill the feeders every night, and only at night, because he didn't want to do it when the birds were around - so as not to frighten them. Josh would even adjust the curtains by the porch to give the birds more privacy in their feeders.
Is it any wonder they all flocked to our house day after day, season after season?
They had the best possible advocate and care-taker in my son.
And we?
Had a messy porch with terrible looking landscaping.
But cleaning up the mess and making plans for a nice front porch (Because Josh has moved out, the birds have moved on, and Brian and I want to create a beautiful space.) caused me to remember the thing I've heard (and thought!) so many times. "You can't have nice things when you have kids!"
And, you know? In many ways that's a true statement.
But as I reflected on my son's joy in caring for his birds - while cleaning the mess they left behind, even as I anticipated a lot of work in making the space beautiful again - I can honestly say, it's OK.
It has been totally worth it.
And if I had it to do all over again, I would still opt for a messy front porch - if it meant my son finding joy in caring for God's creation. If it meant my son could be delighted in learning about what birds like to eat, how they migrate and nest and survive, and caring for their little birdy needs.
Yeah. All that wins out over my desire to have a presentable front porch.
So, for what it's worth, mother of young children (especially boys!), don't worry about having "nice things" right now. For today, let your kids be kids and seek to find joy in seeing them finding joy.
Even if it means a messy front porch.

There. I said it!

Through the Years

So, Elizabeth and Phil needed something to hold their new projector. And after searching through our basement they found the perfect thing! A small bookcase which was doing nothing more than holding some old books-n-such. All I had to do was find a new home for the books-n-such. And in the process of doing that, I came across these photos in an album I'd completely forgotten.

First, we have this gem from circa September 1996. I can't help but chuckle as I notice how exhausted I look in this picture. It also kind of shocks me that I once had hair that long.

Next comes May, 1998. Josh is four months old, Elizabeth has recently turned 2, and Brian and I are still just kids - trying to comprehend that we have kids of our own!

My best guess is that this picture is from November in 1999. It's clear that Josh is going to be a blonde - rather than the redhead we were suspecting at first, and you can't tell yet but: Matthew is on the way!

And then it would seem we got busy and didn't have a family portrait taken for a while. I'm thinking this photo was taken in the early part of 2004. So, since the last one Matthew was born (obviously!) and I'd had brain surgery. Hence, the short hair. And, yes. I am holding Matthew's hands down - not just holding them. The boy couldn't stop moving! (I still remember that fact.)

Ahhhh, it is so much fun for me to look at these pictures and remember life from yesteryear.
Part of me wants to go back in time and give a lecture/pep-talk/sermon/I've-been-there-and-now-I-know-better-speech to my younger self.
Another piece of me feels like crying for the time she wasted in anger, frustration, and insensibility.
I can honestly say some of me would love to go back and re-live the moments. (Not the entire days, mind you. Just some of the moments. *ahem*)
But mostly, as I look and remember and contemplate the events of the past 22+ years - I am overwhelmingly grateful for God's grace and mercy and never-ending patience.
At the best moments, HE was there. In the darkest days, HE was there.
When I had a firm grasp on life, and when I wasn't sure how I would manage living through the next moment - God was there wooing me closer to His heart.
Holding my hand and leading me to the next step.
It's a beautiful thing, remebrance is.
What a blessing to conjure up the faithfulness of God and recall the days when HE carried me.
Hmmmmm, I'm so glad Elizabeth and Phil wanted that bookcase.

Words Roll Better Now

I remember when my kiddos were little and they would say something they really didn't mean.
Like when I made something new for dinner - and before even taking a bite one would declare, "I don't like it. It's yucky!" I'm pretty sure she/he meant, "That's something I haven't had before and it looks/smells different. I am not sure what it is, and I don't feel like trying anything new right now. Cuz, what if I don't like it?"
They just didn't have the vocabulary to appropriately express their feelings. Yeah. That's it!
Or, one of the hundreds of times when I forbid a child from doing something they wanted to do (You know - play in the street, run with scissors, eat a gallon of ice cream before dinner, or *gasp* go to bed without bathing or cleaning up toys.) and was told in no uncertain terms, "You're the meanest mom in the world!!!!" At times like that I imagine what she/he was really trying to say was...
Oh, who am I kidding?
They thought I was the meanest mom in the world.
And they had precisely the vocabulary they needed to express their feelings.
The thing is: whether, or not, they truly meant what they said - whether, or not, they even understood what they were saying - part of my momma's heart broke when I heard those words. Because I was trying so hard to do things well, to make good decisions (and meals), and to lead them on right paths. I was in a world of not-knowing-exactly-what-to-do, trying to make my way - while not ruining my kids.
And some days I felt like I wasn't going to succeed.

Which is why yesterday afternoon I found it rather ironic that it didn't even phase me when my youngest son said another thing which (I hope!) he didn't mean.
That is, Matthew was bemoaning the number of notifications Facebook sends to his phone. (Apparently the number is LARGE.) "I mean," he said, as he read from his phone, "here's one that says, 'Karen Sheaffer Hossink posted a link.' Why'd they send me that???"
"Ummmm, because I'm your mom?" I proposed.
He exhaled with notable exasperation, "Like I care!!??"
And I wondered, 'Like you care' that I'm your mom? Or, 'like you care' that I posted a link?
Without spending too much time on it, I decided he cares that I'm his mom, but not that I posted a link. And I moved on with my day, happily and peacefully. (If only I'd had the ability to let words roll off my back those many years ago.)
Ahhhhh, but thanks be to God for His grace and patience which carried me through those moments and days and years. Thanks be to God for growing and protecting and shaping my children in spite of my best efforts. Thanks be to God for His wisdom and mercy in leading us through the hard times. May you find yourself carried by Him today, as well.

Not Today, Satan

Tuesday evening after I discovered I had never actually purchased the shoes my son was misssing for the wedding, Brian and I decided to take a walk around the mall. And in the middle of our stroll, we were stopped by one of the vendors at a kiosk in the center of the mall.
Honestly, I really don't like being approached in this way, because I am entirely too cheap to buy whatever they're selling - so I feel like we're wasting time for both of us. But I didn't want to seem rude by just breezing past, so I stopped to listen to what he had to say.
It was skin-care.
Again, I felt the urge to move on - because I just don't put a lot of money into those products.
But, AGAIN. I didn't want to seem rude. So I played along. I let him put the amazing cream under and around my right eye. I listened to him explain that as we get older our bodies lose collagen so we get wrinkly and stuff. A short time later, I admitted that I saw the product was already making improvements. I truly did notice the "crow's feet" (as the salesperson labeled them) were less pronounced on the right side. And I acknowledged the remarkable wrinkle reduction on the woman whose picture he showed me.
Yes, it was lovely to know that the skin-care products were from all natural ingredients, hadn't been tested on animals, and the packaging had some re-cycled materials in it. Lovely. But I still wasn't going to make a purchase, and I told him as much.
Ah, but then he pulled out his clever-card and I'm sure he thought he had me. See, he was having a Halloween Special. I could get all these great products - which usually sell for nearly $1,000 - for just $666. Isn't that clever? Halloween Special. 666.
Poor guy had no idea who he was trying to sell to. That even though I love a good play-on-words, I took his "pun" as assurance NOT to buy.
He had other, less expensive, items in which he tried to interest me. Things that normally sell for $10 - available as a part of his Halloween Special for a mere $6.66.
No. Sorry.
Eventually he accepted my, "No, thank you. Thanks for your time and concern for my wrinkles," and Brian and I continued on our way. Or maybe we just continued on our way without him accepting my, "No." It was kind of hard to tell. *wink*

Anyway, that night and even the next morning as I stood in front of the mirror I couldn't help but compare my right eye to my left eye. There is truly a difference between the "crow's feet" after only one application of that collagen stuff. And I'm all, Seriously??? I wasn't at all discontented with my skin before that guy put that stuff on my face and softened the appearance of wrinkles.
But now I stood before the mirror comparing. And feeling angst begin to rise. I thought, Should I go back to the mall and get the 30-month supply of amazing cream so I can lose the crow's feet and defy the effects of aging? (And I remembered something I heard years ago - Comparison is the killer of contentment.)
I think it was in that moment when God's Spirit convinced me to quit comparing. (It is tricky, by the way, to not look at both eyes when you look into the mirror!) I was fine with my lines before I met that man, and I am going to be fine with them now, too. It helps to remember something I heard Erma Bombeck (I think it was her!) say years ago, "I don't want to go through my life looking like I've never smiled!"
Yeah.
I'm gonna go with that philosophy.

I am not 20 anymore. (Thank You, Jesus!)
I'm losing collagen, so I have gray hairs and wrinkles. (Thanks, Eve. This is part of the Fall, right?)
One day I'm going to have a brand new, resurrected body and none of this will matter. (Thank You, JESUS!!!)
And in the meantime, I'll take that $666 dollars and use it for something BETTER.

How Can We Get Out of this Mess?

OK. I am inviting you to think through something with me today.
Though my thoughts on it are plenty, I am not going to get political and begin a debate on the ups and downs of our current situation in the United States and the wider world. But my Bible study of Lamentations 4 has me pondering our present condition, and the Holy Spirit won't seem to let it rest - so I want to work through some questions here.
Because God often helps me see things more clearly when I write.
And maybe He has something for you, too.

My Precepts homework contained this question as I finished my study of Lamentations 4:

Now, what about you or your nation? Have you experienced the tragedy of sin? According to what you have learned today, how could such tragedy be avoided?

I mean, it didn't take long to answer those first questions. As I look around at the world in which I live I see evidence of the tragedy of sin everywhere.
Deception and lies.
Shootings and murders.
Oppression and slavery and despair and abuse and neglect.
Every day, with every news report, there's something more.
The thing is, I know this is not the world God intended. The life we're living is not what HE desires. And I find myself sympathetic to the writer of Lamentations as he bemoans the condition of his city - as he looks at what it has become, and mourns for what used to be.

Then there's that last question: How could such tragedy be avoided?
And the answer is not difficult to figure out. Because we see it over and over again in Jeremiah - before the destruction came of which the writer of Lamentations laments. God kept sending a message to the people: Repent or disaster is coming.
HE kept warning, and the people kept ignoring Him.
Then, behold, they were destroyed. But it wouldn't have happened if they had humbled themselves before the LORD and followed Him. It could have been avoided!
But that was Judah, thousands of years ago, right?
What has it to do with the world today???
Well, plenty - in my opinion.
I wrote in response to the Precepts question, We could avoid the tragedy if we would just humble ourselves and turn to God. Oh! That our hearts may become humble before Him!
Ah, but there is the part of me (the cynical part) which thinks, That'll never happen. I consider the path on which the United States is going, and I find no hope in the possibility of millions of people humbling their hearts and surrendering to God. (Much less the many who are in positions of power and seem to be leading the way in the mess.)
But then I wonder about Israel and Judah, and what things were like during the days of Jeremiah. I read of God's vow to devistate the land if the people did not listen and repent, and His promise to restore and give them new hearts. Hearts which would fear Him so they would never turn away again. And I think, If HE did it for them, maybe we are not a hopeless cause. Maybe the LORD will allow us to fall so far that we will have nothing left to do but humble ourselves and turn to Him.
Honestly, my heart breaks for the condition of our world - how we as a nation are behaving, how we are treating each other and ignoring God. And I think our trouble is about so much more than political parties and philosophical leanings. More than who's Right and who's Left.
As a woman who is passionate about God and about living for Him, I think the problem facing the United States today (And, yes, the rest of the world, too!) is our hard hearts and prideful attitudes. Our disdain for the ways of God, and our desire to do what feels right to us.
It may be too late for us to avoid the tragedy of sin, but perhaps we can be restored.
Perhaps.
If we, as a people, humble ourselves and submit to God and His Word.
And so, I pray. Will you join me?

Feeling a Bit Like my Dad

I am the third of four children in my family.
I have an older brother and sister, and a younger brother. And although we don't see each other nearly enough these days (Living in three different states will do that to ya!) when we do get together we have such a good time. We laugh and reminisce and tell stories and hug ad infintium.
It is so much fun!
I honestly cannot count the times I have heard my dad say, "It is so good to hear you kids laughing together. I love that sound!"
And, truth be told, even as an adult I cannot count the times I have heard my dad make that statement and in my mind I have thought, OK, Dad. Whatever. Not really understanding why he thought it was so wonderful that his kids were having a good time together.
But...
But then, a couple of days ago I was sitting at the table eating lunch with Brian - while Matthew and Elizabeth were in the kitchen making their own lunches. I don't know what was the cause of the commotion which was happening, but the two of them were laughing and carrying on and having a good ol' time. And I found myself pausing in my conversation with Brian to just listen to their laughter, their banter, their joy.
It brought such delight to my heart to witness two of my children simply enjoying life with one another.
I thought, It is so sweet to hear them laughing together. I love that sound!!! Which was followed immediately by the thought, Oh, wow. Now I know what my dad has been meaning all these years.
Then I vocalized my thoughts to Brian, and we smiled at each other - knowing this realization was one more confirmation that we're getting old, and we're continuing to become more like our parents.
And then?
I called my dad to share the experience with him.

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

I grew up watching Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood on PBS.
My OLDer brother and sister used to tease me about watching a "baby show" but I didn't care.
I loved Mr. Rogers!

I had no idea this movie had been produced, but I saw the trailer earlier this week and now I really want to see the movie.
The thing is, as I watched the trailer I was reminded of how nice Mr. Rogers was. I remembered how his kindness made me feel loved - right through the TV screen. And I thought, How might our world be different if we all watched an episode of "Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood" every day?
In a place and time with so much violence and so little concern for one another, I think we would do well to spend half an hour every day singing nice songs and believing everyone around us is our neighbor.

What's LOVE Got to Do With It?

So I've been thinking about love lately.

The outlook for lasting relationships in today's world, that is.

This thought process started with a conversation I had recently with one of my honorary daughters.
She was telling me about some relational struggles she's having and how hard it is to persevere when most of her generation is telling her to just quit. To send him packing. To get rid of the difficulty and start afresh with somebody else. ***read that: Someone with whom there are no problems - which will make for a suitable replacement - until said stand-in reveals he has issues, too. At that time, previous suitablity becomes null and void and must be re-replaced with another proxy who will suffice until inevitable complications surface. Repeat ad infinitum.***
I was simultaneously pleased and saddened.
Pleased that my girl recognizes the madness.
Saddened by the reality of the whole situation.
It seems like our world has become a place where struggle is taboo and comfort is to be elveated above all else. Where the most important factor in a relationship is our personal "happiness", with no room for personal character growth via strife, conflict, or serious effort. For many people, a relationship in 2018 is a situation in which you shouldn't have to give up your preferences, where the "other" is expected to please you in every way, and offenses are unexcusable.
And it breaks my heart.
Because there is no way a relationship can survive those standards. And standards like those are going to produce shallow people whose lives are based purely on feelings, and who will never make it in an imperfect world.

My honorary daughter and I were talking about romantic relationships, but the current state of affairs isn't limited to those connections. We see it in families, neighborhoods, peer relationships, in the church, and at work. If one party offends another, today's world allows the offended to righteously declare that they have been wronged and move on to find someone who will treat them better.
Nevermind addressing the offense, dealing with the differences, and growing through the process.
Nah. That's too much work!
The thing is, I remember a time - some 25 or 26 years ago - when somebody told me about lasting love, which makes for a lasting relationship.
It's love that has a will.
It makes a decision, doesn't depend on feelings.
It stays in the mix when times get rough.
And it commits to seeking the best outcome for everyone involved.
I have lived and received this love in my marriage, my family, and my friendshps - and I have seen it in the lives of many people around me. It isn't easy, but it is possible.
And it is imperative for a lasting relationship.

So that's what I've been thinking. What do you say about it?

Touched by an Angel

Mmmmmm, Angel was different this week.
That is, she wasn't awake and talkative like she has been for the past few weeks. She had taken a bath right before I arrived, and was wiped out. Complaining of a headache, and just wanting to close her eyes.

Well, one thing was the same. She still wanted me to read scripture to her.

So I sat by her bed and read Psalms. Occasionally Angel would repeat the words I was reading, otherwise she remained quiet. And in between psalms, as I turned pages in silence, I wondered at the difference I see in Angel from one week to the next. I remembered when our visits used to be silent like this one, how they became more lively for a few weeks, and were now back to tired and quiet.
I remembered when my grandma was living with me and how I often saw her change from day to day. One day she'd be great, and 24 hours later I would wonder how much longer she had on this earth. Things could fluctuate so quickly.

Then Wednesday happened, and the shooting in Florida.

And I was reminded yet again how quickly a moment can be transformed.

The thing is, we just don't know what tomorrow holds. We don't even possess our next breath.
Let's not waste a single one!

Would You Change Things?

Click here to see the Dear Younger Me video.

She Makes Me a Better Woman

Ahhhhh, my girl came home this weekend!

We hosted a baby shower for one of her best friends, so Elizabeth crossed our threshold for the first time in over four months. Yes. I've been counting. *wink*
And it kind of surprised me how much time I spent anticipating her visit.
*I made our dinner menu to suit her vegetarian-ism.
*Cleaned up the living room for the baby shower, but left the decorating for her - because I knew she'd enjoy it, and would do a lovely job. (She did. Both!)
*Took clutter off her bed and set it aside. (Yeah. I didn't go crazy and clean her room...)
*Verified that she could join us for Krav Maga Saturday morning.

But as much as I enjoyed preparing, it was what Elizabeth did that made the biggest impact.
That is,
*I watched my daughter genuinely and enthusiastically greeting loved ones (her brothers and friends) who she hasn't seen in a long time.
*I saw her taking time to talk and listen - to go places for the sake of building relationships.
*I listened to her share her heart with friends about real thoughts and struggles, being authentic and vulnerable - rather than resorting to shallow conversation, which would have been easier.
*I observed her care for humanity and creation.

And, in spite of the fact that I have spent the better part of the past 21 years trying to shape her character and lead her in godly living - this weekend I felt like she was teaching me.
I looked at my girl and thought, Wow. When I grow up, I want to be like her!!!

I thank God for the young woman He has made Elizabeth to be.

Who Am I?

I had a conversation with a friend yesterday which got me thinking.
And helped me discover an answer to a really big question.

Who am I?

That question was raised as my friend and I were discussing the stresses and struggles of trying to handle the multiple roles we have. Especially when we are playing two or three or more of those roles simultaneously.
For example - when we are serving with our family at a church function: We may be a wife needing to support her husband, while we're a mother who needs to restrain redirect rebuke manage her children, at the same time as we are a Sunday school teacher who ought to be a good role model, while also being a small group leader trying to make sure group members are plugged in to an activity - and attempting to be all these things to all these people all at the same time?
Well, it can be overwhelming.
And sometimes we end up blowing a gasket and damaging our witness.
Can I get a witness???

So, what's a girl to do?

My friend and I decided we need to be convinced of our identity in Christ first.
And make our moves from that position.
As I pondered that thought I said, "Yes. I am a child of God - first!" A child of God.
If I am a child, it follows that I don't know everything, can't do everything, need help.
And if I am a child of God, then God is my Father and it follows that HE is the One who knows everything, can do everything, will help me.
Therefore, in answer to the first question, I am a child of God.
And in answer to the second question, I need to surrender myself to HIM. That is, I need to accept my position as a child, and God's position as my Father. Once that's settled, I need to seek and accept guidance from HIM, being obedient to HIS direction, and trusting that HE will work in me that which is good and right.
Oh, that sounds so simplistic.
Too easy.
Almost too good to be true.
But if my heart would just be humble enough to accept that plan, to believe that's who I am...
I have a feeling I'd be feeling peaceful a lot more often.

What do you think???

Please, Take the Time NOW

Last week I told you about my regret in assuming I would have time to visit with a dear friend. Well, the same day I took our appointment for granted, I also speculated that I'd have time to visit with another dear lady when I went back to Edgewood in February to do church. She wanted to tell me about something that day but I was on my way out the door - and she "didn't want to keep me." I hugged her and said, "Next month I'll come early so we'll have time to talk, OK?"
Well, next month when I go back to lead the church service, I will have attended this dear woman's memorial service the day before.
Yes.
She passed away this week.
And it's crazy. Because she seemed perfectly fine when I saw her earlier this month.
But, again, I am reminded - We don't own tomorrow.

Oh, I know. We all have things to do. Busy schedules pulling us this way and that. But I cannot imagine I didn't have 10 minutes to spare to listen to a story that Sunday. (Which likely would have turned into 15, or 20, or 25 minutes. But, so what???)
I am realizing that relationships are so much more important than calendars. Life is uncertain. And the only moment we truly have is the one we're in right NOW. While some things can't be put off, most of them can wait. So let us resolve to take 10 minutes to listen. (Or 15, or 20...)
I believe it will be time well spent.

I Don't Have an Appointment Today

When I left my place of employment on January 14, 2015, I did so with the promise that I would continue to help a very precious lady as often as I was able. Because of company policy changes, she could no longer be driven to her quarterly eye-doctor appointments and she was very concerned about how she would get to them. I told her, "You call me. I'll drive you to your appointments."
She did.
And, so did I.
I loved the days I took D to her doctor appointments. Her smile, her charm, and the fact that she never failed to tell me how much she loved my grandma always lifted my heart.
Besides, I enjoyed getting caught up on how my old friends were doing at Edgewood.
D kept me up to date on everyone.

The first of January found me visiting Edgewood, again, because I was privileged to bring the message for their afternoon church service. And, of course, I also stopped in to say Hi to my dear friend, D. She was surrounded by her family and smiled as we hugged. I didn't stay long, because I had to get out for church. Besides, we had an appointment coming up and I would catch up with her then.
Today was the day for that appointment.
But the appointment was cancelled. Because D passed away the day after I popped in to say, Hi.

Oh, how precious and fragile our lives really are.
Had I known that Sunday was her last...I surely would have lingered.
If only I'd been aware...
If I'd realized...
If...
Have you uttered those statements, too?
Indeed, tomorrow is not a guarantee. For any of us! And so I resolve to stop taking it for granted. I will ask the LORD to slow me down, to help me savor the present moment, and to lead me leisurely through my days. Because I don't know when my next appointment might get cancelled.

I'm Asking