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Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Getting Ready for Thanksgiving

Okay, so yesterday I had a meltdown. I yelled at the boys present, apologized later, got counseled by my daughter-in-law, got forgiven and prayed for. I can always blame my computer (because I hate to admit I'm technologically challenged); I just couldn't get something to work.

After a few tears and confessions, I realize what is happening. Part of mine and Burt's job is to protect the peace at our "tent." Everyone who comes on our property comments on the feeling of serenity that is present her, and we have to make sure that this feeling prevails because it is His divine Presence. I know that part of a verse of scripture tells us to "endeavor to keep the peace..." When I went to my concordance to look up the reference for it, I was surprised to see all the passages that refer to "peace." One in Psalms particularly impressed me: "Work hard at living in peace with other." (Psalm 34:14). Wow. Maybe it isn't all that easy!

In a few hours we will have a house full of sons, wives, grandchildren, and dogs. We will have a very mad cat. What I have to realize that the meltdown I gave way to yesterday was a challenge to let my guard down when it came to keeping the peace. I didn't do so well.

Today, I'm ready to think about the purpose of the Season that we are about to enter. I am determined that the Prince of Peace will be welcome in our home, and that others will recognize His presence... but there's still nothing wrong with a good cry!

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Girlfriends

I know that girlfriends was God's idea. I have just spent five whole glorious days with two close friends. We have sons the same ages. Our boys played high school football together. We shared moments of anxiety over sports injuries, teenage romances, college choices, and later danced at their weddings. Now we share information about their careers. Our sons now live with their wives in our same small hometown they knew as teenagers. Together, we celebrate them and the amazing young men that they are.

For five days, we have reflected on the phases of life. We laughed together, rode bikes, swam in pools, and enjoyed our friendship. Sally Clarkson expresses it much more eloquently than I can in her blog (www.wholeheart.typepad.com) in her posting, "I take joy; I need friends." As I get older, I find that the things we look for in others are so rich and wonderful. We have learned to cherish our parents, both those left and those who have passed on. We encourage one another. We push for physical fitness and optimistic outlooks. We hold hands and pray, and mean every word of it.

One morning, two of us were riding our bikes and we stopped by a gift shop. In it I came across a notepad with the following quote across the bottom: "Cherish the little things, because one day you realize the little things really were the big things." We shared a moment when I gave them each a notepad. With tears in our eyes, we agreed that this celebration of friendship was one of the "little things" that we will cherish.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

The Secret Place

This morning I experienced a small taste of the meaning of the Psalm 91:1, "He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High abides under the shadow of the Almighty." With the aid of noise canceling headphones, I listened to a playlist of beautiful worship music, and there I was overcome with the presence of God. From the first sounds of "Lord, You're Beautiful," I was compelled to get alone and fall to my knees. I found myself weeping from somewhere deep within my soul. Eventually I rested on my bed and lifted my arms up to the One whose love I was seeking.

I had the mental picture of our little grandchild as he sees me approach him and he reaches up to me with happy expectation. What a precious picture of how God yearns for us to want Him to "pick us up" to where He is! I thought of another verse that I have struggled to understand, Ephesians 2:6, "For He raised us from the dead along with Christ, and are seated with Him in the heavenly realms-- all because we are one with Christ Jesus." For the first time, I think I have a glimpse of what that means. I felt that God had indeed reached down and picked me up into His presence. For an hour and a half I didn't think about earthly responsibilities, or my puny needs; I was simply enraptured with His presence. I also began to understand what the scripture means that says our God is a jealous God. It doesn't mean that Almighty God is some egotist who has to be admired; far from it! It just that when I heard the first words of worship, I felt the Holy Spirit drawing me aside where we could be alone, just as we as human beings desire sometimes to be alone with the ones we love the most so we can we experience intimacy with them.

Feeling the calmness that settled over my soul, it came to me how important it is for us to teach our children to learn the benefits of this practice. They need to experience at a young age the peace that comes when they develop the habit of seeking a secret place with the Father. The practice of escaping from the noise and sensory stimuli that bombards them constantly will cause their mental and physical attributes to develop as well as their spiritual. What a wonderful concept to think of teaching our children to draw aside for a period of time to get to know the God of the Universe. And He made us a promise. He said if we draw near to Him, He will draw near to us! He also said that if we seek Him, we will find Him. It's not a game; it's a promise beyond our comprehension!

Friday, June 18, 2010

Reflecting His Presence

This morning, Burt and I are enjoying the beauty (and temperature!) of the North Georgia Mountains. We came up to Brasstown Valley Resort for a few days of R & R. It has been wonderful, being away with just ourselves. I rode with my husband while he played a round of golf, and although I don't ever aspire to be a golfer, I enjoyed seeing the beautifully groomed course, situated in the valley with the Blue Ridge Mountains forming a backdrop. I didn't bring any golf shoes with me, so I took off my sandals and pampered my feet in the carpet of grass. Then I pampered them even more with a trip to the spa!

It is hard to say which is more delectable, the food or the setting in which it is served. We have sat on the porch overlooking the valley/golf course at each meal. Breakfast is refreshing, and the afternoon sunsets are glorious. But this is only a part of the story.

For three days, the Lord has let us relax. Then this morning at breakfast, He took us off the bench and put us back into the game. He sent us a server with a hungry heart. His name was Jonathan, and one word led to another, until we found ourselves discussing things of a Spiritual nature. At one point, he asked Burt if he ever "preached" or spoke at churches or places like that. When we said no, we just shared what God seemed to want us to say to whomever He sent across our path, the young guy seemed fascinated. He wanted to know if we were staying longer because he would like to talk some more. We exchanged contact information, and then agreed to meet him this afternoon when he gets off work at 3:00P.M.

Somehow, this young man saw something in us that he was seeking. He had a heart that was hungry and a mind that wanted answers. We didn't seek him out. He was led to us, and our spirits connected. Our job is not to answer every question that he has. Our responsibility is simply to not blur the reflection of Christ that should be on us.

God's ways are so wonderful. He has allowed us time to enjoy one another, as well as His magnificent creation, and maybe even set the course for another person's life. what a privilege and an honor to be the reflection of Him!



Saturday, June 12, 2010

The Family Returns

Thankfully, I am blessed to have a husband who not only understands my need for R&R, but is willing to accompany me to some wonderful place that is seems God always provides just before I jump off the edge. One of these occasions happened immediately after Memorial Day following a visit from our children. The family group consisted of four of our five sons, three wives (one pregnant), a 22-month old grandson, an 18-month-old granddaughter, a 3-week-old newborn granddaughter, and three dogs (much to the consternation of our dominant male cat).

When boys come home, they hardly ever come alone, regardless of their ages. They generally will have friends, girlfriend, or wife. They also bring with them various accoutrements, all pertaining to some form of activity. From the moment they arrive the foyer of our house is practically impassable because of the collection of guns, fishing rods, boots, cameras, Frisbees, footballs, the latest exercise-related paraphernalia, and camouflage bags containing mysterious items that I have yet to identify. The girls come with certain equipment as well, now mostly pertaining to childrearing, i.e., diapers and wipes (three different sizes), baby appropriate food (organic), and the quintessential collection of favorite toys for each child. Soon the counters in the kitchen and laundry room disappear under the assortment of diaper changing stations, sippy cups, bottles, and breast pump equipment. My kitchen becomes a lab for preparing toddler meals and sanitizing nursing items.

I have found that the challenges of having our grown-up family at home are things that nobody prepared me for. It was a big adjustment when I had our own children, and found myself being a mother. At the same time I was also a daughter and a daughter-in-law. In the course of a few fast years, my role included being a mother-in-law, and now a grandmother…as well as a wife. I never realized how difficult it could be to juggle all those titles at once. I have the type of temperament that wants everyone around me to be happy, and if I perceive they aren’t, it somehow becomes my responsibility. Sometimes I’d like to post signs in my kitchen that say things like “Kitchen closed because of illness; I’m tired of cooking!” but somehow I can’t bring myself to be that cold. Besides, my family would be appalled to think that their servile mother could be guilty of such attitudes!

Anyway, the challenges of trying to make sure everyone is having a good time and that all the needs are being met sometimes gets to me. For instance, I’ve discovered that buying groceries for an anticipated visit from the children can be daunting. Trying to remember everybody’s favorite cereal, who’s eating sugar and who’s using a substitute, who need fiber and who doesn’t (I mean… who doesn’t?), who wants red meat and who likes fish, what likes what kind of snacks, what flavor/brand of ice cream, bread, or dog food are acceptable, and where in heaven’s name to find plain whole-milk yogurt for the toddlers in a small town like ours can wring me out! Now that there are only my easy-to-please husband and me at home alone, we can easily be satisfied with a simple salad or a bowl of cereal, or our frequent spur-of-the moment meals in town, but when we have an army to feed, that gets a little pricey! Don’t get me wrong; our family members are more than happy to cooperate and bring/cook/or do anything I ask to help. I just can’t remember that it isn’t all up to me! That’s why I have to brace myself against having a meltdown in the middle of Winn-Dixie and having to explain to my husband why it took two hours to finish shopping.

I’ve also found that I need to feel organized when they walk in the door. Don’t ask why it makes me feel better to know that my sweat pants are folded in the drawer, the kitchen knives are all sharpened, and the grass cut before they come, but that makes a difference. It also helps to know that the floor is vacuumed, mopped, and free of small objects for the little explorers, and that the sheets are all clean and the bathtubs sanitary. I’m much more relaxed to know that I don’t have to run interference for them when they come in.

The biggest challenge of all, however, is monitoring everybody’s emotional health. I thought that once the boys became grown men, they would have worked out their differences and accepted one another as the wonderful individuals that they are, leaving behind the irritations and temperament traits that can cause clashes. I was wrong. Now the best I can pray for is that will deal with issues in a mature way that reflects their Christian character and privately enough that I don’t have to be drawn in to the conflict. For some reason, it is sometimes hard for me to realize that I don’t need to be the referee, although they have tried to instill that in my head all their lives. Now that there are wives to consider, things can get even more complicated, not because the girls are difficult, but because, like me, they hate to see any disagreement among the brothers. I also am sensitive to the fact that we still have two bachelors within the family, and I don’t want them to feel less validated because some of the brothers have wives and children.

So when the last of the tail lights disappear down the driveway, I find myself physically and emotionally depleted. It’s time then to recognize that what I need is a long bubble bath, a good night’s sleep, and some time with the earthly father who is responsible for all this, as well as the heavenly Father whose plan it was from the beginning.




Wednesday, June 9, 2010

A Missed Opportunity

This morning I missed a privileged opportunity. I had the perfect time and the perfect place selected to meet the ultimate Life Coach. We were scheduled to meet on the dock of our lake, located about 1.5 miles away from our house. This spot is perfect for meditating, reading, writing, and conversing. The only sounds to be heard are the twittering of birds and the occasional splash of a fish breaking the lake's surface. A peace prevails there, especially in the early morning when the mist is rising from the water and the sun is parting the curtains of the day. A perfect venue for meeting such a phenomenal mentor.

I got up when my alarm beeped at 6:00A.M., but by the time I had stalled in the kitchen making coffee, searched for the car keys, thrown on my sweats (I mean, really, how long should that take), gathered my Bible and writing materials, and... oh, yeah... checked a couple of e-mails, it was 7:15 before I made the arrival at the dock.

I was aware that this was no ordinary Life Coach. I mean, this is the Coach of all Coaches. A I sat there for brief time of solitude and reflection, and I pondered some of the extraordinary promises that He had made to me. For example...

He promised that I would never have a need that He wouldn't supply (Phil.4:19).

He promised me success (Prov. 16:3).

He promised me peace of mind (John 14:27).

He promised I'd have joy (John 16:24).

He promised He'd protect me (Psalm 91).

He promised me strength (Psalm 18:32).

He promised the He would always be there for me (Heb.13:5).

He promised that He would always answer my calls (Jer.33:3).

He promised that I could have an audience with Him 24/7 (Heb. 4:16).

He promised that if I would draw near to Him, He would draw near to me (Jas. 4:8).

His services are free and His love is perfect.

And I missed some prime time that I could have spent with Him. In a short 45 minutes, someone appeared to measure the dock for sunscreens. Then I had to hurry home to dress for an appointment...and the day flew by. I thought about a song that was recorded by Larnelle Harris several years ago. It's called "I Miss My Time With You." The words always bring a pang of remorse when I neglect opportunities like today.

There He was just waiting
In our old familiar place
An empty spot beside Him
Where once I used to wait

To be filled with strength and wisdom
For the battle of the day
I would've passed Him by again
But I clearly heard Him say

I miss My time with you
Those moments together
I need to be with you each day
And it hurts me when you say
You're too busy, busy trying to serve Me
But how can you serve Me
When your spirit's empty
There's a longing in My heart
Wanting more than just a part of you
It's true
I miss My time with you

What will I have to offer
How can I truly care
My efforts have no meaning
When your presence isn't there
But You'll provide the power
If I take time to pray
So Ill stay right here beside You
And you'll never have to say

"I miss my time with you."

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Time Alone

My husband just gave me a wonderful gift: Time alone.

I don't know if it's because I have lived with five sons and all the constant activity that accompanies a large family, or if it's that I share almost every waking minute with my precious retired husband, or if it's just my temperament type, but sometimes I think that nothing sounds as appealing as as complete solitude.

Today I heard it officially from the doctor that examined me. She said I need REST. Now granted, this was my eye doctor, a wonderful woman who happens to be a dear friend of mine, but I'll take it as an professional opinion. She examined my eyes, declared that I indeed had a form of conjunctivitis that was viral. She explained to me that this means the body has to deal with it, and if we are depleted and exhausted, the body can't fight effectively. She recommended vitamins, afternoon naps, and some good relaxing books. She said I could say that I had "doctor's orders."

So why do we need permission? Why, tonight, did I feel so relieved when my husband volunteered to take the chicken pie that I had cooked for covered dish supper to our church, and let me stay home with a glass of wine and my pajamas on?

It seems that I never have the luxury of relaxing. I can understand why this would be so when there are little children in the home with all their demands, or when a person has to meet and greet the public every day, but I, being retired, feel that I should be in better control of my schedule. Why do I always feel pushed and pressured to "do" something?

I once heard heard someone say that God never puts more on us than we can handle...but people will! I think that is so true. Not that I can compare myself to Jesus, but I relate to the verse in Mark 1:35 that says, "Very early, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, and went to a solitary place, where He prayed." That was the secret of His success: His time alone with His Father. That's when He got direction concerning who needed healing, who needed deliverance from demons, and who needed mud on his eyes. It was His time of restoration, recovery, and rejuvenation. I first came to realize this when I read a wonderful book by Nancy Leigh deMoss, entitled A Place of Quiet Rest. It is one of those book that I reach for over, and have marked so much in the first copy that I had to get a new one. I recommend it to anyone.

Today, I needed that place of quiet rest. After Hubby left, I sat at our patio table, put on some worship music via i-tunes, and let the late afternoon sounds soothe me: the bird calls as they settled down for the night, the frog chirps, and other contented evening sounds that I couldn't identify.

In the background, I realize that the Christian worship leader on the computer is singing "those that wait on the Lord will be renewed..."

And I wait.

Friday, April 9, 2010

The Bride of Christ

A few years ago I came across a wonderful story entitled "Johnny Lingo's 8-Cow Wife." (It's too long to reprint here, but it's well worth taking time to "Google" it.) Burt and I have been leading a Wednesday-night study at church on the Blood of Jesus, and we came to a lesson that presented the concept of our becoming the Bride of Christ through His shed blood. We wanted to illustrate the high value Jesus put on His Bride by showing what He was willing to pay: namely, His own life. At the same time, we wanted to demonstrate the amazing potential that He must have seen in us. The story of Johnny Lingo illustrated both points.

I lay in bed early this morning (5:00 a.m., to be exact) and contemplated the implications of the word "bride." Why are we not referred to as the "wife" of Christ? I began to think about being a perpetual bride: to have the thrill of the virginal relationship with our Love sustained forever.

I have had the pleasure of observing three beautiful young women become brides of our sons. I shared the excitement as they made selections for their new homes. I loved being a part of the planning and preparations for the big event, and discussing the wonderful discoveries that they expected to find in each other. Then came the pleasure of seeing each girl appear in her wedding gown. The beautiful aura each conveyed as she made her way toward her waiting groom was dramatic, and as always, the wedding guests anticipated that moment when the music heralded her arrival and the bride appeared.

My eyes, however, went to the groom. As the mother of sons, I rested in the joy of seeing their life circle made complete. This was the moment they had waited for. They had prepared a place to take their bride, a spot where together they would create a home. The engagement ring that she wore on her finger assured the young women that this day would come.

This morning, I am absorbing the truth that we are the Bride of Christ. We will never have to be the "Wife of Christ." Every moment of Eternity we will experience the joy and refreshment of seeing our Lover unveiled for the first time. I really can't comprehend how that will feel, and I surely can't comprehend how Jesus will feel when He sees us, the Bride for whom He was willing to pay the ultimate, "8-cow price," accepting His proposal and joining Him in the place He has prepared for us!


Saturday, March 20, 2010

Goodbye, Winter; Hello, Spring!

Oh yes, I am ready for sunshine! We have had the longest winter period of rain and clouds and cold that anyone around our area can remember, so the blue sky that is appearing this morning is a welcome sight.

But that's not the only thing that makes this first day of Spring a big day at our house. It is also the opening day of (ta-da!)...Turkey season! That may not mean a thing to those of you who don't live with a household of hunters, but let me explain. That is, if I can.

The thing about hunting is not as much about killing (sorry to say the word...maybe I should use the euphemistic term "harvesting") the big bird, as it is about the camaraderie that goes with it. At our house, it's about the brother-to-brother and father-to-son experience that somehow mysteriously bonds them together in a fellowship that non-hunters like me don't have to experience.

This weekend, our two youngest sons are involved in a bachelor bash for a good friend who is getting married soon. We know how those weekends are: good friends, good food, lots of male bonding and story-swapping. The fact that they were having a good time underscores the importance of this morning, because they left the weekend party to drive home and spend last night, just so they could go turkey hunting with their dad on Opening Day.

I can think of a lot of things that I consider important on the first day that we have had weather warm enough to enjoy being outside: windows need washing, flowers need planting, grass needs cutting...on and on. But this morning, I watched our next-to-youngest son (age 32) open our bedroom door quietly, saw the hall light outline his strong adult body which was housing a little boy inside who was as eager as a kid on Christmas morning. I heard his expectation as he said, "Dad, you going to go with us?"

I felt their 74-year-old dad disengage himself from a cozy snuggle with me and get up to make preparations for the experience. In a few minutes, I felt a light in my face, heard a mumbled apology, and a teasing invitation, "Don't you want to go?" which was code for, "Don't -you-want- to- get- up- and- make- some- coffee?"

As a young bride, I might have been quilted into falling for that hint, but after 40 years of marriage, I can rest in the comfort of knowing that the guys can handle themselves. I was satisfied to let them to share their moment

I settled back in my comfortable spot, welcoming the thought of sunshine, hopefully, for at least this first day of Spring. Once again, I realize how fast the seasons of life come and go. The chores that need doing will eventually get done. The relationship that our sons and their father enjoy is the most important event happening at this moment.


Thursday, March 18, 2010

Poem for Young Moms


If you’ve ever seen The King and I, you will recognize the take-off on Roger’s and Hammerstein’s song in the following poem.





Hello Young Mothers



Hello, Young mothers, wherever you are,

I hope your troubles are few.

All my good wishes are with you just now;

I’ve been a mom like you.


Be strong, young mothers, and follow your heart,

Be strong, dedicated, and true.

The task you’ve been given is worth all the pain;

I’ve been a mom like you.


I know how it feels to have kids on your heels

And fly through the day in a trance.

You run here and there, and you’re hardly aware of the

Time between soccer and dance.


So cry, young mothers, if you feel that you must,

But don’t cry that you’re not alone.

Cry for the days that will pass in a blur

When you find that your children are gone.

All of my memories are happy today,

But I’ve had those times of my own.


Be brave, young mothers, and follow your heart,

Be brave, devoted, and true.

Cling very close to your children tonight;

I’ve been a mom like you.


I know how it feels to cringe at the squeals

And to hope that your feeling don’t show,

To yearn for a date and a chance to escape

With the lover that you used to know.


Take heart, young mothers, whatever you do,

Don’t cry that you’re not alone.

All of your memories will be happy one day;

You’ll smile at the days that are gone.



Saturday, March 13, 2010

It's Coming Back to Me

This weekend, Pops and I are in Atlanta babysitting for 2.5 year old Lila and 3.5 month old James.

The memories are coming back. Not the memories of trying to keep babies on schedule, praying that they will sleep at the same time after lunch; not the memories of wondering what they are into when they disappear and are quiet; not the memories of whether or not it is harmful to watch an hour or so of TV...etc. Those memories are buried somewhere in the cyberspace of childrearing. Most of those tasks were done so automatically that the recollection wasn't recorded for later re-living.

The memories that come back to me are the ones that pertain to getting away with my children's father. The anticipation that built up at the thought of escaping for a night or two of uninterrupted time with my husband are recorded in my memory bank forever. It was the thrill of leaving behind the demands of both adult and child and disappearing from the tyranny of
schedules and responsibilities. It was like tasting that forbidden fruit that is so sweet. For a little while, we could be like teenagers out of supervision of parents.

So what did we talk about for the first eight hours away? The children, of course. We would verbally unpack and examine every mental picture. After a while, we would rediscover each other, and remember why we got married in the first place.

I'm not sure if I fully appreciated the willing grandparents that we were blessed with. I think I operated under the delusion that we were doing them a favor by allowing them to participate
in their grandchildren's upbringing. What I didn't realize until now is that maybe they too enjoyed the feeling of freedom that comes with the realization that we have no one to make happy except each other. I don't know how our parents felt, because they belonged to the generation that didn't disclose such personal feelings. I just know that for me, just as I looked forward to time away with my children's father, I now look forward to getting away with their grandfather!

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Ordinary Days

Today I discovered a YouTube clip that spoke to my heart. In fact, it filled my mother's heart to overflfowing. I've included the site at the bottom of this blog. Be sure to check it out! (I would put it at the end of this post, but I haven't figured out how to get it there.) There are a lot of "mechanics" to blogging that I haven't learned yet. Bear with me!

There are, however, a lot of "mechanics" when it comes to rearing boys that I HAVE learned. Such things as letting them go. We moms have to know when to hold 'em and know when to let 'em go.

I was having coffee (yes, decaf... see last week's post) with a young mother yesterday, and as she sat nursing her fourth baby boy, she asked, "When do they start pulling away?" I had to ponder this for a few minutes, because I realized that this is not a one-time thing. It's several episodes of "letting them go." She was experiencing some of the stages in her older sons.

I told her that I think the first stage is when the son is about 8. Based on my own experience, this is about the time that they discover their dad's world and began to see that they can actually be a part of it. Suddenly they want to get into their father's conversations with his friends, and they do it by interrupting with their own stories that mimic Dad's... such as wanting to tell their own hunting experience, or telling about the fish they almost caught, or maybe even trying to capture the men's attention with the same mannerisms and phrases their dad uses. It's equivalent to the little girl who wants to dress in her mommy's clothes and use her cosmetics. Sometimes the effect is rather comical in both genders, but I have seen little boys-becoming-men crushed and disappointed when they get ignored by the older males by whom they so desperately need to be accepted. At this point, a mom has to accept what she doesn't care to admit: that she really isn't the most important person in his conscious mind just now. We have to learn to take a small step aside to allow our sons their first baby step in the rite of passage into manhood.

The next big pulling away occurs when the sons enter the beginning of puberty, at age 12 or so. Prior to this time, all seems well. In my opinion, there is typically nothing sweeter than a 10-year-old boy. Then something happens. He withdraws his open adoration of his mom, and sets out to prove to the whole world that he really doesn't need a mom. At least, that's how we interpret it. It's no use fighting this stage. It too shall pass! The biggest thing a mom needs to remember is that her son desperately needs her presence... just not in public! He needs her deeds of service, not done in martyrdom, but as willing expressions of her love. He needs her presence at his game days, and his uniform clean.He needs her genuine compliments of his strong muscles and his sound mind. He needs her to read aloud to him from the Bible (even if he doesn't appear interested). What he doesn't need is her to put him on a guilt-ridden accusal of his lack of appreciation of her. He still needs her prayers at night when he is most vulnerable, and her goodnight kiss when nobody is looking.

High School graduation always involves saying good-bye to precious, unrecoverable years. The young man who leaves your house for college will be a stranger to you. Be prepared. He will continue to become more so when he comes home for visits. Bur he still needs you to show him what unconditional love is. He needs you to fix his favorite meal, welcome him at the door, and sit and tell him about the new life that you are finding for yourself. He never needs to feel that he has abandoned you by leaving.Remember that good parenting is the process of working yourself out of a job.

The biggest pulling away occurs when your son gets married. You have to prepare for this years in advance. If you've done a good job of loving your son and letting him have his wings as well as his roots, he will try to find a girl who will love you as well. Welcome her, and thank God for her.

Through all the times of letting go, remember to enjoy the "ordinary days." They will be the ones that you will recall when he leaves your nest. Never, never, never give up loving and praying for him, no matter how far away he goes. And tell him so.

I sent an email to our son who is 34 this week before he left on a ski trip with a group of friends. I had awakened with him on my mind, and I prayed for him, and I wanted him to know. I got his reply. It said, "Thanks, Mom. I always love getting encouragement from my mom."
So, Moms, listen to Katrina's reading "The Gift of an Ordinary Day" and think about the letting go that we have to do. Then go and bake your son something he loves.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Countdown to Passover

Yesterday was Sunday, and we were enjoying one of the few sunny days that we have seen since Christmas. When our babies left (that means our youngest son who is 30 and his wife), Burt and I headed over to our lake for a short time. Together we launched the john boat that he fishes from. I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't full of water and that the trolling motor was charged! I think Burt expected me to sit on the dock and read, but I am becoming more and more aware of the moments that I can participate in something that he really enjoys, so I go in the boat with him. I still read, but I looked up enough to cheer him on when he got a bite. I even attempted to grab a bass by the lower jaw and lift him out of the water. Ouch! He was heavier that I thought he'd be, and stronger!
I'm still enthralled with Carol Brazo's book, No Ordinary Home. I read some more about her family's celebration of Lent, and I'm feeling more discouraged about my own observance. My efforts seem so puny in comparison. I'm trying to focus on the sacrifice that Jesus made, and it's simply more than my mind can grasp.
I looked at the scenery surrounding me, and it was so peaceful, even in its winter attire. The water provided a perfect mirror image of the dock; in fact, it look like two docks stacked on top of each other. I watched a duck coming in like a kamikaze and landing on his chosen spot. I watched as the logs and stumps in the lake passed lazily beside us as our boat glided along. The late afternoon sky was beginning to gather a few rain clouds before evening, and the clouds looked like graphite smudges on a piece of gray paper. The only sounds were the zing of Burt fishing rod when a bass struck and the soft whir of the trolling motor. Somewhere behind the last of the white clouds that floated like silk scarves, there was the sound of some kind of migrating bird, probably returning home after his winter getaway, but we couldn't see them. Altogether, it was calm and serene, and we could experience the world from a distance.
My thought then turned to the Lent season. I tried to imagine what Jesus was feeling when He was on Earth, spending time with His disciples, counting the days until the Passover Celebration when His body would become the ultimate sacrifice for mankind's redeemption. I realized that I couldn't fathom it. I began to feel a touch of heaviness in my own spirit, not because I could experience some of His Passion, but because I couldn't.
All I could do was to thank God silently that Burt and I were brought together in His wonderful preordained plan, blessed beyond description with amazing sons and totally wonderful daughters-in-law. Since we have mastered the art of reading each other's thoughts, Burt said at that point, "We have an awesome family, don't we?"
As we pulled that boat back on the shore and took out the plug, Burt said, "Look at the sun." It hadn't begun to set at that time, but was giving us its last blaze of glory before its descent. I left feeling peaceful, yet wanting more. I believe it will come. There are 34 more days before Resurrection Sunday.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

This year I'm attempting to do something I haven't done successfully before: I'm trying to really observe the season of Lent. I've never had this modeled for me, since my Baptist background didn't stress it the same way that some of my Catholic friends did, although I always thought that denying myself something pleasurable in order to focus on the sacrifice Jesus Christ made for me was a good thing to do.

I was so impressed with our pastor's leadership two Sundays ago when he called for a Fast to be observed by our entire church body for the season of Lent. The purpose of it is to pray and fast for the healing of a 5-year-old child in our midst who is awaiting a bone marrow transplant. The idea of a corporate Fast opened new possibilities for the Holy Spirit to operate, not only in a miracle of healing for little Creed, but in the lives of all of us involved.

The decision to be really intentional about the observance of Lent has challenged me, and apparently it has had the same effect on many others. I've had heard different ones saying what they were going to deny themselves: ice cream, breads, sodas, red meat, caffeine. Others are laying down habits that are taking time away from the Kingdom's work or from their families, such as Internet surfing, Facebook and blog reading. Personally, mine is going to have to be coffee. I do love it! I'm thinking I'll not have any caffeine, but allow occasional decaf. Is that a compromise?

I've tried fasting before, and I find myself thinking about the food that I can't eat more than focusing of the Lord. I feel so inadequate as a follower of Jesus! I have been a Christian for over 50 years; I should have mastered this habit long ago. I read books on Fasting, such as Fasting for Spiritual Breakthrough by Elmer Towns and Fasting by Jentzen Franklin. What they have to say makes so much sense spiritually, yet giving up some little pleasure of mine seems so trivial compared to what Jesus did for our redemption. That's why, this year, I want this season to be truly meaningful. When Resurrection Sunday gets here, I want to feel a celebration as never before.

Two books have given me some inspiration. One is called Celebrating the Christian Year by Martha Zimmerman, and the other is No Ordinary Home by Carol Brazo. This is the book that has been mentioned by several of the Christian bloggers that I follow, and it is certainly a gem. I paid $41.00 for a used paperback (!) because I had heard so much about it. From these resources, I am getting some inspiration for ways to keep my mind on Christ and God's Big Plan of redemption.

One idea was to have an "Easter tree" with ornaments depicting story of Jesus added each week or each day during Lent. Since I'm not as creative or as crafty as the young bloggers that I read, I decided the tree was more than I could tackle. I happened to be shopping in Hobby Lobby with a wonderful young mom who was also trying to do the same thing. We moaned over our lack of creativity when we spotted a wooden platter that we thought looked "Biblical." We decided that having it sit in the middle of the table with a symbol of some sort on it would serve the purpose. The focus of the first week of Lent is the fall of mankind, so when we found a wooden snake, we were inspired to keep going! Two hours later, we had found everything we needed to depict each lesson that reveals the sequence of events from the Creation to the Resurrection. We found a lamb to represent the sacrifice, a dove for the baptism, an alabaster jar for Jesus' anointing, a salt shaker in the shape of a light bulb for the Sermon on the Mount, miniature loaves and wine goblets, bowl and pitcher for the Last Supper, a wooden cross, and the recipe for Easter Cookies for Resurrection Morning. (If you aren't familiar with Easter Cookies, I'll include the recipe at the end of this post.)

I think I'm on my way to celebrating this season. My giving up caffeine is such a tiny, trivial thing, but I'm praying that it is only the beginning. Trying to fathom what my Savior did for me is too mind boggling, but I want to be as open as possible in order to receive what the Holy Spirit has to teach me. I walked through the breakfast room this morning and would have welcomed the familiar smell of fresh coffee. It inspired me to add to my visual.

This may seem silly, but it reminds me that anything that I enjoy more than I enjoy fellowship with my Savior needs to be cut out of my life. Just now, that's what He needs to teach me.

EASTER COOKIE RECIPE!

Making cookies with your children

to teach the true meaning of EASTER!

The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us. We have seen His glory,
the glory of the One and Only, Who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

John 1:14


You Need

Help & permission from Parents!

1- cup whole pecans

1-teaspoon vinegar

3 egg whites

pinch of salt

1-cup sugar

zipper baggie

wooden spoon

tape

Bible

EASTER COOKIES

Preheat the oven to 300 (this is important-don't wait 'til you're half-done with the recipe)

1. Place the pecans in the baggie and let the kids beat them with the wooden spoon to break them into pieces. Explain that after Jesus was arrested, He was beaten by the Roman soldiers.

Read John 19:1-3

2. Put the vinegar into a mixing bowl. Let each child smell the vinegar. Explain that when Jesus was on the cross and He became thirsty, He was offered vinegar to drink.

Read John 19:28-30

3. Add the egg whites to the vinegar. The eggs represent life. Explain that Jesus gave His life so that we could have life.

Read John 10:10-11

4. Sprinkle a little salt into each child's hand and let them taste it. Put the rest into the bowl. Explain that this represents the salty tears shed by Jesus' followers, and the bitterness of our own sin.

Read Luke 23:27

5. So far the ingredients are not very appetizing. Add 1 cup of sugar. Explain that the sweetest part of the story is that Jesus died because He loves us. He wants us to know and belong to Him.

Read Psalm 34:8 and John 3:16

6. Beat the egg whites with a mixer on high speed for 12 to 15 minutes, until stiff peaks form. Explain that the color white represents the purity in God's eyes of those whose sins have been cleansed by Jesus.

Read Isa. 1:18 and John 3:1-3

7. Fold in the broken nuts. Drop by teaspoons onto a wax paper cookie sheet. Explain that each mound represents the rocky tomb where Jesus body was laid to rest.

Read Matt. 27:57-60

8. Put the cookie sheet in the oven, close the door and turn the oven off.

9. Give each child a piece of tape and seal the door. Explain that Jesus tomb was sealed.

Read Matt. 27:65-66

10. Go to bed. Explain that they may feel sad to leave the cookies in the oven overnight and that Jesus followers were in despair when the tomb was sealed.

Read John 16:20-22

11. On Easter morning, open the oven and give everyone a cookie. Notice the cracked surface and take a bite. the cookies are hollow! ON THE FIRST EASTER, Jesus' followers were amazed to find His tomb empty.

Read Matt. 28: 1-9

Our Family 2015

Our Family 2015