The Warrior is a Child

"Be Strong in the Lord and in the power of His Might." Ephesians 6:10

"Blessed is the one whose strength is the Lord" Psalm 84:5

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9

Just sayin' it's o.k. to be in this place, too.

They don't know that I go running home when I fall down

They don't know who picks me up when no one is around

I drop my sword and cry for just a while

'Cause deep inside this armor
The warrior is a child.

Stuff I've Been Thinking About, Part 2

Discipling your children. HOW?
It is not easy.
In fact, it is exhausting.
It requires being fully surrendered.
It requires putting yourself last. Dead last. Rick Warren was not kidding when he said, “It’s not about you.”
It requires sacrificial parenting -- At a minimum, 18 years worth – at the very least. And that is per child.
It requires focus on the goal – with the goal being godly kids/raising up worshippers for His Name.
It sometimes requires redefining everything. Do you want your kids to be happy or do you want them to be holy? Do you want your kids to be successful, or do you want them to be godly.

When the Bible states to TRAIN UP a child…I think of when I learned how to ride a bike. When I was 9, they only made one size bicycle—adult. I didn’t get it the first time. I had to be trained to balance, trained to pedal, trained to do them both at the same time, trained not to panic, trained to use the brakes instead of jumping off. It didn’t’ happen for me overnight. My Mom claims she ran hundreds of miles behind that bike holding it steady during this difficult time in my life...It took days of training and practicing to finally get it.

Discipling, and training – we’re in it for the long haul.

I just spent time at my daughter's, helping with baby Leala who just arrived into the world. Kari has Titus, who is three, Eliana, who is 20 months, and a newborn. But I watched them patiently train their kids in different areas while I was there. Titus is very compliant, mostly. Elli is just a mess, though. And not for lack of training. She doesn’t like to eat, and she doesn’t like to take naps. She’s just one of those unique little strong willed things. Because of her diagnosis, her parents are careful to keep her healthy and on track physically because of the unknowns. However, at 18 months, she weighed only 18 pounds. They do everything “right”, and she just some days decides not to eat. They say, “One more bite” and she (very cutely, I might add), throws her hands over her mouth. Well, she’s not doing it to be funny, it’s just defiance. So Danny takes her to the back room, away from the table, and “trains “ her. Titus looks at me and says matter-of-factly, “Anya (his pronunciation of Eliana) isn’t obeying, is she Nanna?” But because they love Elli, and Elli needs to eat, and more than that, Elli needs to obey – Elli gets trained.

Are they tired? Yes. Are they exhausted? Yes. But they cannot quit training for the physical and spiritual health of their children. (A child’s job is to obey his parents…we must train our kids to obey.)

THREE MAIN THINGS about discipling your kids that I want to leave with you.
1. LOVE THE WORD.
It totally starts with here with you. Immerse yourself in it. Know it, live it, obey it, read it. Hide it in your heart. Meditate on it. Draw strength from it. Make it a priority. Do you have a plan for that?

a. Bathe your kids in scripture. God commands parents, “These words I have given you shall be in your heart. Teach them to your children as you”….wake and sleep and walk by the way, and play catch in the backyard and drive through the take out window at Chick Fil A. The Israelites incorporated God into every aspect of life. So, use scripture as a part of your everyday life and language. Let your kids see you reading the Bible, loving the Word, and it making a difference in your life. Read the Bible out loud as you rock your child in the morning and have a few quiet minutes together. Post it in your house and on your walls. Post a verse a week on your refrigerator or car dashboard to memorize together. Put a Bible in bed with them, so when they wake up it is the first thing they see. Read scripture over your children as they sleep.

b. Recognize the POWER in the word of God. Use scripture so it is a part of your every day life and language. Use it to encourage not to be punitive. My favorite scripture always was “Do all things without murmuring and complaining.” But instead of beating them over the head with it, you guide with it – “The Bible instructs us to do all things without murmuring and complaining. Do you understand what that means?" After discussing, you then say, “In five minutes it will be time to pick up the toys.” Then encourage them rightly by pointing out how God helped them obey.

c. Pray the Word. (nothing gets the attention of the Father faster than when He hears His word repeated back to Him.)

Father, the Bible says we should pray and not give up. (Luke 18:1) Help Nathan to persevere as he practices baseball and learns how to catch fly balls.

Father, your word says that “Our love must not be just words and talk, but true love which shows itself in action." Thank you for Emily, who showed true love to me by helping me feed and walk the dog.

Children are a blessing of the Lord. Thank you Father that Luke obeyed today and ate his lunch. Luke is a blessing to us.

The catch – you must know scripture, to be able to teach your kids to pray scripture. HIDE IT IN YOUR HEART. You have to be purposeful. Teach it when they rise up and when they lie down. Teach it when they walk in the way.

2. TEACH DOCTRINE and biblical truth to your children daily, so that it penetrates to the core of their being and the very fiber of their heart. Teach it daily, so it becomes a part of who they are and what they believe so deeply that in times of testing their theology is sure and cannot be shaken.
You have to know what you believe and want to teach about God in order to disciple your children. And better to have this hammered out now, so that your theology doesn’t have to be hammered out years later in hospital waiting rooms or funeral homes. Better to fix your hope now on “God is good” than to have to conjure it up when you scarcely can breathe for the pain.

Start with one of two of these and repeat them throughout your day… as you wake and sleep and lie down and break bread together and walk in the park. Or pick another doctrine that you hold fast to, and start there.
a. God made everything. (Easy conversation when you see a rainbow or a sunset, or a dog or a baby or a bug, etc.)
b. God is good. Easy conversation when you are helping your child get dressed and say “God gave us clothes to wear. God is good. “ or when daddy leaves for work, “God gave daddy a job he loves. God is good.”
c. We can talk to God. (Pray without ceasing along with your kids. We can talk to God any time, any where.)
d. God is in charge of everything. If rain interrupts a trip to the park, explain that it’s o.k. because God is in charge of everything and the flowers need the rain to grow. Or if a friend cannot come over to play, explain that it’s o.k. because God is in charge of everything and has a better plan for the afternoon. When you read Bible stories, such as Noah, repeat that God is in charge of everything, and He had a plan for Noah and his family

3. EMBRACE WORSHIP
Children learn to worship by watching their parents worship. They learn to pray by watching their parents pray. They learn to give by watching their parents give, and they learn to serve by watching their parents serve. When worship is an obvious joy to parents, it will be to their children as well. Weave it into every aspect of living – a morning prayer time every morning. Or a family worship before bedtime – read a Children’s Bible story book, chapter at a time.


I said earlier that this requires sacrifice and surrender and a change of focus.. And it does. But it doesn’t have to be hard. Just begin by falling in love with Jesus. Your kids will notice. (I told Titus how kind his Dad was by cleaning up the kitchen one night and he answered, “My Daddy loves Jesus.” At age three, he just knew it -- it was natural. )

And walk with God. Be astonished at His greatness and ability to teach you to raise your children in His Nurture and Admonition. Afterall, we are called to raise up worshippers to His Name. and everything I learned about parenting , I learned from how He parents me.

Stuff I've Been Thinking About

I was asked to speak at our MOMs (Mothers of Many Seasons) group at church and this is what came out... My topic was supposed to be "age appropriate Bible teaching for children." It morphed into "Discipling your children." Sort of the same thing, isn't it?



In the book, Sacred Parenting, Gary L. Thomas states “the best reason for having children is so simple that it may not seem very profound: God commanded us to have children (Genesis 1:28). It’s his desire that we ‘be fruitful and increase in number,’ and this fruitfulness includes raising spiritually sensitive children who will serve God and work for the glory of His kingdom on earth.”

God’s first commission to man was to “be fruitful and multiply”. Jesus last commission to His followers was to “Go and make disciples”. Think about the commonality of those. Side by side, the Old Testament command of be fruitful and multiply and the New Testament command to make disciples almost have the same ring to them. Dr. Leiderback, a professor at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary, teaches in his Ethics of Marriage and Family course, that parents have a calling to fulfill these commandments and to raise up worshippers for His Name.

How is that working for you?

Teaching the Bible to children has been the calling of my life since I was 28 years old, when on April 1 1982 – unbeknownst to me-- the Lord called me into preschool ministry. I thought I was just doing something because no one else would take on the recently vacated “nursery coordinator” position in our little church, and my best friend looked at me and said -- “I’ll do it, if you’ll do it!” So we started down an incredible path 28 years ago sort of clueless like the disciples who left everything to follow Him when Jesus said, "Follow me and I will make you to become…" Would they have done it if they fully understood the cost, or the path He called them to? They had no idea at the time, what following Jesus meant—but still began an interesting journey.

I can draw a parallel there. Especially the clueless part.

Not long after that, the Lord gave me Romans 11:29 –" the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable." And in the days when I have been more than ready to pack it up and leave it behind, (and there have been many), this Truth has literally riveted me to His calling…and I cannot go. After all, what could be more important than teaching the Bible to children on their level of development? What could be more important than introducing them to their Creator and Savior?

So not long after THAT, the Lord gave me the purpose statement of preschool ministry - -Isaiah 54:13 ..."and all your children will be taught of the Lord, and great will be the peace of your children." But enough about me.

Voddie Baucham, a local pastor, revealed a startling statistic a few years ago when he stated that by the end of their freshman year in college, 77% of church kids have deserted their faith. If that is true, i submit to you that something is broken.

We are all over age- appropriate Bible teaching at church. We do a good job. But one hour a week on Sunday morning obviously just doesn’t get the job done. Church was not meant to take on the spiritual training of children, but to supplement the spiritual teaching of the home.
Because for children, the home is at the very center of biblical instruction. There is very little scriptural evidence of children being taught primarily in the tabernacle, synagogue or temple. The home was the school of faith. The churches of those times supported the work of the home, not the other way around. No amount of Christian school, Sunday School, or church influenced childcare and weekday education can replace the primary impact of the home on a child’s spiritual development.

I have begun to see that this is where the system is broken. Because many parents either do not understand their responsibility, or have given it over to the church. I, in fact, did the same thing.

One day when my girls were little, I was driving to a Bible Study at church, or maybe it was a hand bell or ensemble practice, or maybe a preschool committee meeting or a fellowship. (We were always in the car on the way to church, it seemed.) The girls were working on learning our street address at the time, so I asked, “Where do you live?” Kari, about 4 at the time, replied point blank, in her little four year old voice, “At chuch.” I laughed and tickled her tummy and called her silly, but the truth of what she just said pierced me.

Never again in all my life would I have the opportunity to disciple someone like I had the opportunity to disciple those two little lives buckled into the back seat. Never in my life would I again have the time to invest in another person like these two little ones God had put in my own backyard. Was I spending so much time away from them for MY OWN spiritual growth or connection or other events that I was squandering/neglecting the very ministry (motherhood) that the Lord had called me to? Was I depending on the teachers at church to raise them “in the nurture and admonition of the Lord? Was I really leaving their learning to someone else so much so that my daughter would think she lived “at chuch”? I immediately made some lifestyle changes for my family and my children.

I was an education major, and teaching was natural for me. I was always leaning towards using the child development i studied in college and thinking up developmentally appropriate activities for us to do at home. (My kids told their friends that they knew how to scrub a bathroom before they were 7, and it probably was true!) Some things required radical adjustments on our part, though.

I was influenced and intrigued greatly at that time by Anne Ortlund’s book, Children are Wet Cement – the first book I had ever come across that advocated discipling your children. And more recently by Raising Kids for True Greatness by Dr. Tim Kimmel, and Teaching Kids Authentic Worship by Kathleen Chapman.


That's all for now. But stay tuned for part 2.

Heartfriends

These are the words from the little piece of stationey that Vergie pressed into my hand:

Heartfriends

How generous is God that He has given me these few and special women who are the true friends of my heart. How He must love me that He has let us find each other upon this crowded earth.

We are drawn to each other as if by some mystical force. We recognize each other at once. We are sisters of the spirit, who understand each other instinctively.

There is no blood between us, no common family history. Yet there are no barriers of background or even age. Older, younger, richer, poorer…no matter, we speak the same language.

We have come together in a special moment of time and the sense of union we feel will last throughout eternity. How generous is God that He has given me so many other women I can call friends. Dear, good, life-enriching women who add flavor, value, and delight. I would be the poorer without them.

Yet surely, God’s true concern for us, His children, is to lead us to these rare and special few. The ones who call out to us from the crowds, who hold fast to us through trials, triumphs, long separations.

The friends with whom the heart feels joyfully at home.

Unchanged

A sacred thing happened to me this year. I reconnected with an old friend from college.

It just always seemed that we were meant to be friends, the way the tapestry of our lives was woven together. We used to say of our friendship that it just must have been in our jeans. (Was that because we became friends in the seventies, before wearing jeans 24/7 was readily accepted except in the circle of semi-quasi-Christian-hippies we hung around with? Or was it our passive aggressive way of dealing with the sorority chicks strutting the campus in their high heels and mini skirts?)

So whether it was in our jeans, or in our genes, we knew the moment we became friends that there was something preciously God-ordained about our connection. There simply was. And before graduation, Vergie pressed into my hand a folded piece of stationery with words that summed us up quite nicely – "Heart Friends."

We stayed in touch some after college. Vergie was in my wedding party, and afterwards left town with my pink bamboo Hawaiian dishes that were fairly nauseating, but cleverly “Art Nouveau” at the same time. They had never even been opened when my mom bought them (cheap) at a garage sale so I would have dishes in my college apartment. Some poor man had bought them for his wife while he was in the army and on leave in Hawaii, and she hated them…that was the story. I couldn’t BELIEVE my own mom just gave them to her without asking me, but I got over it since I didn’t particularly like them either. Besides, it was Vergie.

Vergie even lived across town in Houston for a while, and we managed a few trips to see each other when the kids were little. We occasionally sent Christmas cards. Occasionally called. But life got busy and we lost touch mostly. I heard about her sometimes through mutual friends. So when I found that little piece of stationery in her handwriting that reminded me of why we connected deeper and on a core level, I kept it where I could read it over and over.

Then about this time a year ago, totally out of the blue, I got a comment on a blog post from my long lost Vergie. We have added approximately 35 years of living since college graduation, I think. However, the tapestry of our lives is still woven together by threads of faith and commonality. She has lost a precious son. I have lost my precious Dad. We started keeping up with each other a bit more.

So Saturday, I was flying out the door to drive up to East Texas for a memorial service for another friend’s father. Took a chance and shot Vergie an email – coming to your town- if you get this in time, call me and let’s grab a coke. My cell rang almost immediately.

I went by her house, we had a cup of soup together, went to the memorial service together, chatted familiarly along the way. Both when we saw each other for the first time, and when it was time to go, we hugged and held on tight, like friends who just needed to be reassured that it was indeed each other in the flesh. Vergie sent me home with a pot of her heirloom jade plant , a cutting of pencil cactus, and something interesting that she called “Moses in a Basket”. I promised to bring her a hanging basket of widow’s tears next time I blew through her town.

Has it really been that long since we’ve seen each other? You would never know. Things have changed, certainly. But there was still something preciously unchanged and God-ordained about our connection. There simply was.

I guess when it’s in your jeans, you just pick it back up where you left off. And anyways, how could you not be friends with someone named “Vergie”?

Tomorrow – Heart Friends.

Mr. Tom's Nativity

I prepared an “optional” game for the kids that came to our really fun preschool teacher’s Christmas party last night. It was entitled “FIND THE NATIVITY SCENES” and the object of the game was to wander through the house and write down all the Nativity Scenes that you see. Because, you see, as I was decorating for Christmas I suddenly realized that there were at least 17 different Nativity Scenes of some sort around the house. Simple enough. Or so I thought.

Here is one.

And another one.




And another.



But here is one that my friend, Mr. Tom thought he found.

Don’t you think that is stretching it a little? He thought i was trying to sneak one by him...right there between the muscadine jelly and the Christmas cactus. Honestly, Mr. Tom. Maybe he had just read my story about Baby Jesus in a Walnut Shell, and was going for Baby Jesus in an Acorn.

The Gift

Grief is powerful.

Ten years ago in early December, my Dad went Home. I remember that first Christmas, how I was ambushed by waves of grief when I least expected it. Like one day in Dillards, when O HOLY NIGHT, Dad’s favorite Christmas song, came over the loudspeaker, and I had no where to turn from the raw and painful emotions. I hid in the clothes rack for a while, then just finally handed the sales clerk my purchase with tears streaming down my face, and no explanation on my lips.

Or like when we went to see Mom, and I would go in Dad’s closet when no one was looking, so I could hold his clothes up to my face and breathe in that wonderful, sweet, rugged Dad aroma. Dad smelled so good. So familiar. I could just stand there and breathe deeply and actually still smell him. Something so tangible I could hold on to...so I could remember him.

You never knew when it would just come over you from nowhere. A song, a smell, a child’s laugh, anything precious could trigger it without warning. Yet as time began to heal the painfulness of absence, it happened less. Mom eventually cleaned out Dad’s closet. Time passed. Things changed.

But back to the gift.

Duane brought it home from work this week. A navy blue Mr. Rogers sweater of Dad’s. Mom gave it to Duane during the closet cleaning era, and Duane kept it at his office in case he ever needed to warm up at work. He said he didn’t’ know what to do with it so he brought it home -- had rarely worn it and needed the closet space now. I held the folded sweater up to my face. Inhaled. Remembered . After ten years, surprisingly, unmistakably...it still smelled like Dad.

You never realize the things you will miss the most -- their smell, their voice, their handwriting…. The things that you can no longer have once they cross over.

But this Christmas, I received a gift.

Baby Jesus in a Walnut Shell

My daughter, Kari, called this week with this question:
“Mom, would you be upset if I used “Baby Jesus in a Walnut Shell” as a White Elephant gift?

Sigh. I remember the very night she made Baby Jesus in a Walnut Shell. She was four. It was at Joys of Christmas, a wonderful child focused Christmas celebration at the little church we went to. My best friend and I were preschool and children’s ministers and Joys was our solution to beginning the Christmas season focused on the biblical celebration of His birth. It was an evening of untold wonder, capped by the Hanging of the Green worship service where the focus continued on the children, who with their families participated fully in the evening worship, and decorated the church for Christmas.

“I guess not, sweetie. But…do you really want to…I remember the very night you made it.”

“Exactly. You remember it. I don’t. And don’t you still have another one?”

“Yes. I just hot glued the other Baby Jesus in a walnut shell’s bonnet back on last night.”

“Mom! That’s the point. Baby Jesus didn’t have a bonnet.”

Sigh. “Whatever. It’s yours.”

The next day I got this text: Titus found Baby Walnut Jesus and would like to hang him on his tree in his room. (Titus is three) Thought that would make you smile.

Then thirty minutes later, this text: Now he is hanging walnut Jesus on Elli’s pigtails. o.k. walnut is a keeper.

Hope your Christmas is a keeper, and likewise makes you smile.

Things that make me Happy - Part 4

Snow. In Texas.

Houston

December 4, 2009

Favorite parts of the day:

1. Picking jalapenos in the snow.

2. Sitting on patio with a bowl of chili, watching it come down.

3. Seeing a car full of teenagers stop in front of the house, hearing all this commotion in the front yard, going outside to see what they were doing, and finding:

I could hardly wipe the smile off my face all day long.

Saying Good-bye

Took my eighty-two year old mom to say good bye to her best friend of fifty years. We were hoping they could sit in the porch swing with a cup of coffee like they used to, chatting and laughing, patting each others hands, and wrapping up any loose ends or words that needed to be said. But Miss Dorothy quickly and suddenly grew worse, and when we got there she was unresponsive, no longer able to sit, or speak, or stay awake for very long…or maybe even recognize those gathered around her.

My Mom is a remarkable woman. She believes that dying is just another chapter of living, and that it will be o.k., and it is good. So, she still gathered her best friend up in her heart and forged through their good bye single-handedly. Mom sat on the bed and kissed her forehead, told her she loved her so very much, asked her to squeeze her hand if she knew who she was. Miss Dorothy never took her eyes off of mom, and squeezed her hand.

Miss Dorothy’s family moved across the street from our family in 1959. She and Mom became fast friends, as we tend to do with those who we grow up through life with. They had coffee breaks twice a day – at 10 and 3. At ten, to give them some get up and go for the house cleaning chores lying before them, and at three, to shore them up for the afternoon ….before the school bus delivered us kids back home again. So sitting on the bed by her best friend, Mom told stories about those early marriage days, the kids shenanigans, and how in the world they survived it all! The day Miss Dorothy’s son slammed his finger in the door and severed it, and Mom picked it up, wrapped it in a paper towel and took him to the doctor to have it sewn back on because Miss Dorothy didn’t have a car. The day Miss Dorothy’s skinny little two –year old daughter climbed up on the kitchen table and ate 7 bananas, and by the time they discovered her, her little belly was pooching out so unimaginably bloated! The day Miss Dorothy’s oldest daughter, my brother, and I decided to dig a swimming pool in our backyard and my brother got hit in the head with the shovel and had to go get stitches. Mom chatted and laughed, and patted Miss Dorothy’s hand.

Mom and Miss Dorothy have been friends for fifty years, yet thirty-nine of those years, their friendship was long distance. Miss Dorothy still lives in the same little house, but my Dad got transferred to Dallas, then to Memphis, then retired to Paris. Yet they remained best friends.

Mom bent down and whispered in her friends ear, “ You are my forever friend. You know that, don’t you?” Then she said out loud, “Dorothy, can I pray for you?” Dorothy nodded her head- it was a very definite response. My Mom thanked the Lord for her friend, and their long and good friendship. She committed her to heaven, asked the Lord to walk her home. Then instead of saying goodbye, she said, “Wait for me at the eastern gate. I’ll be there soon. You’re just going to beat me home.”

She told Miss Dorothy that she didn’t want to wear her out, and she looked tired. Mom knew that hospice had just given her some pain medication that was making her sleepy. Mom told her that we’d go get a bite to eat, and come back to see her again before we had to leave town. So we did.

When we returned after about an hour-and-a half, Mom asked if Dorothy was asleep. Her daughter said that she hadn’t shut her eyes since we left. I believe that she fought through the medicine to be able to see Mom one last time. So we left them alone this time, to wrap up any loose ends and say whatever words were left to be said.

It wasn’t at all the way we hoped it would be. But when you have a best friend for fifty years, you do whatever you have to do to send her on her way in peace. Dying is afterall, just another part of living. And it will be o.k. And it is good.

1 Thessalonians 4:13 But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope.

A Texas-sized Rooster

My dear husband jumped in whole-heartedly to "Trunk or Treat", our church's newly revised fall festival. In its simplest form, the point is to decorate your car's trunk, and sit beside it in the church parking lot passing out candy as kids walk by. So here ya go ---

Life is fun!

Things that make me Happy - Part 3

Widow's Tears (Achimenes)

These flowers leave me speechless. They date back to the early 1900’s, and belonged to my great grandmother, Ida Mae Gulley. My mom, who is 82, remembers them in flower pots and some in hanging baskets on the big long front porch (and the screened in back porch) of the old white farmhouse where she was raised in southeast Oklahoma. When my grandmother, Jodie Elizabeth Ingram, went to be with Jesus in 1968, and my parents were cleaning out the old house to sell it, my Dad found one dried up old flower pot stuck behind a door like a door stop, in the dining room. Dad, a horticulture major at Oklahoma A & M (now OSU) thought he knew what they were, and decided to take them home and give it a try…

TA-DA!

Every spring and summer they bloom profusely. Every winter they die back and spend the cold weather months reproducing in the garage. So every spring, we have to re-pot them, and there are more and more baskets to give away. My family has probably given away hundreds of baskets of Widows Tears to friends throughout the years.

These flowers are a part of our lives now. When our kids were each about seven months old, I dressed them up in the same little yellow Feltman Brothers bubble, and took a picture of them in the same little children's rocking chair at my parents house, with the same big pot of widows tears growing in the background. One Christmas my sweet husband went to a lot of creative trouble, found the photos, and had them framed together for the best present ever.

My friend, Marjorie, said she remembers these growing wild in her native Jamaica, so I gave her a hanging basket last year. No one else I know has ever seen them.

My widow’s tears never look as good as Dad’s did, being that he not only had a green thumb, but a green arm as well. But this was the best year ever for them. Aren’t they amazing?

Things that make me Happy - Part 2

Girls who love to cook in fancy jewelry

Things that make me Happy - Part 1

I have decided to write a new blog series entitled "Things that make me Happy!" Feel free to look for subsequent posts in the coming days.

THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY - PART 1

My Mom loving Titus.

Eighty years difference, but mysteriously bound by mind-boggling love...

A Virtual Blogging Disaster

I admit it. I am a virtual blogging disaster. I blog, oh, maybe once a month....maybe. I really don't want to waste your time reading if i don't really have something blogworthy to say or reveal or comment about. So perhaps that explains why i don't blog except maybe once a month. Life can be so status quo around Houston.

So i won't bore you with how busy life has been since August. But i WILL eventually upload pics of our mid-September party, where all the kids and grandkids and my little mama converged at my house in Houston for a few days...so Mom could meet Elli for the first time and i could use the occasion as an excuse to get everyone together... Eventually, i said. I really will. Maybe soon.

Dr. Nick

This is my son-in-law.

Isn't he distinguished?

He is a doctor.
Today is his 30th birthday.
Happy birthday, Dr. Nick!

A little poetry is good for the soul

This is one of my mom's favorite poems. I had it read at our wedding. Just wanted to refresh myself on it's simplicity and truth...it becomes more clear as we continue our journey.

"This loving you is, then, of all things, earthly.
You are a part of everything i know-
of color, and of laughter,
and of seasons,
of sea and star,
and of the winds that blow."
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Miss Elli

Do you see a trend?

Word Verification

Many of us have Word Verification activated on our blogs, to prevent something… I don’t know what, but it seems like a reasonable thing to activate in order to protect your blog from unimaginable who knows what. However, when I was commenting on a friend’s blog tonight, my word verification was “KWOOPY”.

Now I wasn’t an English major, but really now – is KWOOPY a word? If so, then use it in a sentence. My kid has a kwoopy little cough? How can you verify a word that isn’t a word?

So then for fun, I pretended like I was commenting on other blogs, so I could check out my theory that word verification is a total farce. BINGO! My next five words, no kidding, were
bathesc
ponpadoo
pediti
qaucke
aazoti

Bathesce – the essence of a warm, soothing bath?
Ponpadoo – gotta be a 1950’s style hair do
Pediti – sounds like an itty bitty foot
Qaucke – can you even have a q not followed by a u?
Aazoti – maybe a new type of pasta?

My conclusion? Word verification is a left wing conspiracy to usurp the fundamentals of English. There can be no other valid assumption.

Two-fer

Today is a two-fer. It is Father's Day. And it is also my grandbaby's first birthday. So a short word about both, for the record.

1. Father's Day:

I love my husband. He's mostly pretty much a mess, but he keeps our lives interesting. I know he completes me, because we are so totally opposite in about every way imagineable. But despite the ways the Lord uses him to build character in me, he is loving and generous and funny (sometimes) and adventuresome. He is even getting better at bringing me flowers - just because! He's a good dad, and an even better grandfather (or Baba, as Titus would call him.) Here's to you, hon. Happy Father's Day!

I miss my Dad. There was something almost magical about his blue eyes, they always seemed to twinkle with life...even to the end. His life was marked by unconditional love and patience that was beyond measure. His Father's Days were marked by lunch at El Chico every year, because WE loved Mexican food. (He didn't.) One of his favorite sayings was, "the joy is in the journey!" and he and mom lived it out. He finished well. Here's to you, Dad. Happy Father's Day! You simply beat us home.

2. Elli:

And now, Miss Elli! Happy birthday! It has been one interesting year for us because of you! You have stolen our hearts, and you grace our lives in ways even yet to be discovered. So here's to you, as well, little one. The joy, indeed, is in the journey.

Me and the Guys

Didn't want to change my profile photo, but wanted to share a pic of me and my guys.

Home Is Where the Mother Is

I went to see my little mom last week. She’s 81 years old, about five feet tall, and pretty spunky, just the same. I love her stories. I love it how she can remember what Jeffrey used to do when he was five and I can’t (life was such a fog when the kids were small and our goal was simply to get them all in bed at night.) I love it that she still keeps up with our next door neighbor in Shreveport, Louisiana even though we moved away 38 years ago. I love that she cherishes certain day lilies growing in her garden because someone special gave them to her. I love that every now and then she gives me a call and says, “I just had a yen to talk to you!” I love that when she saw her first great grandchild and was asked how it felt, she simply summed it up in one word – continuance. I love that when we moved her out of her house a few years back, she could tell a story about every quilt she had and every knick knack on her shelf, and basically knew who had given her what and why and when. I love it that she can remember things like that, because I can’t remember anything. But more than that, it professes to me the value she places in relationships. She paid attention along the way, and remembered the things that were important. The relationships.


My parents moved around some after Duane and I married, so when someone asked me where “home” was, I always just said wherever they were living at the time – Dallas, Memphis, Paris. Because really, home wasn’t a certain city, home was simply where they were.


And still today, I believe with all my heart that “home is where the mother is.”
Mom’s were a great idea. Thanks, God!

And I love you, Mom!



caption: mom and sweet peas
or
a sweet pea of a mom

In Lieu of the Flu

With everyone around Houston so preoccupied with the Swine Flu, and waiting for the next shoe to fall or school to close, I thought I would post something to help take our minds off of things.

The Doneraki man.

The Doneraki man is a north Houston icon. Everyone in the Champions area of Houston knows him. He stands on a busy street corner (FM1960 @ Champion Forest Drive) in a sandwich sign everyday (for at least the last ten years,) waving his arms at the traffic and promoting Doneraki’s Mexican food restaurant a half block away. The Doneraki man, we have decided, is the younger brother who can’t cook.

The Doneraki man started out with his sandwich sign and a sombereo. Rain or Shine, Hot or Cold (in Houston, Hot or less hot) there he stands. He is so famous, we sometimes talk about him at lunch.

One day I drove by and heard a sound like a loud fart and discovered he had added a bugle to his advertising mania. Remember how 6th grade trumpet lessons sounded? Like that.

Recently I noticed he was getting even more creative. He has left the bugle and replaced it with toilet paper rolls, one in each hand, stuffed with long, white cloth napkins that stick out of each end, which he waves at people as they pass by.

Why does he wave? Why does he stand there in the sweltering heat? How much does he get paid? Why did he leave his post one day while I was watching and go bum a cigarette from a lady across the street waiting at a bus stop? These are all questions I would respectfully like to ask him someday.

Famous Quotes

My friend, Jules, and I have a habit of recording “famous quotes” when we are together attending a children’s ministry conference, staff meeting, etc. Sometimes they are profound, sometimes they don’t make sense at all, sometimes they are just pretty darned funny. So here’s a few for your reading enjoyment:

“You’re so big and sweet!” Miss Pattycake

“I want to give you 2 ‘F’ words….” An unnamed Minister of Education in a large southern Baptist Church in Georgia, speaking at a Children’s Pastors Conference. (We never heard the 2 words, b/c we were so stunned by the quote we were kicking each other under the table to keep from laughing. Though I think one of the “f” words might have been “focus”.)

“Dedicated and medicated” Gigi, in describing children’s ministers without true balance in their lives

“In two days, tomorrow will be yesterday.” Crabby Bill

“Aaarggghhh…" Cap’t Jim the pirate.

“Did you know one billion oh ninety-five million people live in India? Good God, that’s a lot of people!” Said with a really bad southern accent by an unnamed museum visitor reading the signs at a museum exhibit on India (quote shared by our friend, Marty, but laughed at by all of us)

“I will be a fly on your wall.” Another unnamed Minister of Education stating he will be involved in the lives of his staff

“Jesus came to fill His Presence in the storms of our life.” Anonymous (I’m not willing to expose this person because she is Jules favorite person to stalk at conferences and holds the respect of a lot of children’s ministers across the country.) And yes, i know the quote makes no sense whatsoever. It was on a powerpoint slide.

“We all have a Crap Meter. When we hear something and think ‘that’s not true’ our Crap meter goes off. (then, somewhat under his breath) Can I say Crap up here?” a crazy man keynote speaker at a children’s ministry leadership conference. (Might I add that when he said “crap”, the Anonymous person referred to in the above quote closed her notebook and folded her arms. Bad sign for the crazy man. He just lost all chance of ever presenting at a children’s ministry leadership conference again..)

“It’s BROCCOLI!” mean waitress, responding to our friend Lezlie’s two questions : “What kind of broccoli is it?” and “How is the broccoli prepared?”

Angels and other Mysteries

I am not a theologian. There is so much about God that I can’t even wrap my brain around. I think the Sovereignty of God is easy for me, because of that. Yet at the same time, I love the supernatural side of God. I think most of the time we are so busy in our lives and so sterile in our “religion” and even our relationship that we don’t take time to meditate on the supernatural part of God. The mystery. Then we are surprised if we ever notice it or are ever blessed enough to experience it.

God is honored for what he keeps secret. Proverbs 25:2

To you it has been granted to know the mysteries of the kingdom of God. Luke 8:10

Let man regard us in this manner, as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God. 1 Corinthians 4:1

One of the most intriguing verses in the Bible to me is Hebrews 13:2 --Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some have entertained angels unaware.

When our kids were growing up, we chose to teach them about angels. The Bible tells us that children’s angels continually behold the face of the Father. We recognized their participation in our lives as messengers, protectors. As we slept at night and drove down the highway, the preceding prayers were for the protection of angels around our house, around our windows, and around our cars. We knew definitively that the reason our house was the only house on the street that never was robbed wasn’t because of the big friendly dog in the backyard, but because of the angels who stood guard over our home. However, when the van flooded in high water just a block from our driveway and two never seen before teenagers appeared from nowhere and pushed us into the driveway, and refused to accept money because as they said, “we just came here to help…” it was my preschool daughters who asked if they were angels…not me.

Mandisa sings a song that got me to thinking about the times in my life I could not explain…the mysteries. It may not be totally theologically accurate, but it brought back some of the mysteries of my personal faith journey. Listen to the words of “God Speaking” by Mandisa --

Have you ever heard a love song,
That set your spirit free?
Have you ever watched a sunrise,
And felt you could not breathe?
What if it’s Him? What if it’s God speaking?

Have you ever cried a tear
that You could not explain?
Have you ever met a stranger
Who already knew your name?
What if it’s Him? What if it’s God speaking?

Who knows how He’ll get a hold of us?
Get our attention to prove He is enough
He’ll do, and He’ll use whatever He wants to
To tell us, I love you

Have you ever lost a loved one
Who you thought should still be here?
Do you know what it feels liketo be tangled up in fear?
What if He’s somehow involved?
What if He’s speaking through it all?

His ways are higher
His ways are better
And though sometimes strange
What could be stranger than God in a manger?

Who knows how He’ll get a hold of us?
Get our attention to prove he is enough
He’ll do and He’ll use whatever He wants to
To tell us, I love you

My mother in law was dying of cancer. She had breast cancer that metastasized into the liver. We made a few trips home in the last months to see her. One day Duane mentioned to his sister and me that as her organs began to fail one by one and her body began to slowly shut down, that it was almost like someone was going through the house/ through her body turning off the lights. One by one. I thought that was a pretty accurate word picture.

About a week later, his sister called me. She asked if I remembered what Duane said, and if we had shared that with anyone else. I asked why, and she told me this story. She had called her mom that morning to check on her and her mom said that the strangest thing had happened. She was sleeping in the lazy boy in the den, because she just couldn’t get comfortable in bed. The lazy boy faced down a long hallway that had three bedrooms and a bath off of each side of it. She was dozing off, but woke up to see a man in the house going from room to room and turning off the lights. She thought it was Duane’s younger brother, Craig, who had let himself in to the house, and was perturbed at him for not stopping to give her a hug first. She realized that it wasn’t’ Craig, but then dozed off again. It must have been a dream.

My sister-in-law whispered, “It wasn’t a dream, was it?” I don’t think I could even answer her. Within a few weeks, Duane’s mom was in the arms of Jesus.

Who knows how He’ll get a hold of us? Get our attention to prove HE IS ENOUGH.

Job 11:7 Can you fathom the mysteries of God? Can you probe the limits of the Almighty?