Today I had my socks just blessed off! As I stood before the Lord in worship and praise at my church I happen to catch out of the corner of my eye a motley crew of young people. Not really a surprise except for the fact there was a whole row of them on the very front . And not only that they were there, each one of them were singing and worshiping also. Oh how the Lord must have been pleased! I know I was. I have talked to them several times and just recently again, about not being fearful to come to the Lord. He isn’t scary…He is AWESOME no doubt. We are to be in awe of Him and all His mighty works. But to be scared to approach Him…no that just won’t due.
When I was growing up I didn’t have the blessing of attending a church on a regular basis. My mother would take us from time to time but in no way did I feel apart. As a matter of fact, back in the day…. our teacher ( Mrs. Maude: a very tall, very sweet, amazing teacher whom I loved with all my heart) would ask us each Monday morning, “who went to Sunday school yesterday?” Each one of the children would gladly raise their hand, this of course was before we were to hide the fact we were Christians. Anyway, I would faithfully raise my hand, I mean all the other kids were doing it; until one day I was busted! There was this one girl, the root of all evil and the bane of my existence; piped in and said, ” Rosemary wasn’t at church”..blah blah blah! That little brat
( and I am being kind here, really), she loved that so much. And of course I firmly cowed down in totally embarrassment. Shamed and going to hell probably. So church became another way for me to suffer humiliation. How did she know that I didn’t go somewhere else, visited family at another church. It could have happened. Oops she was my family…grrrrrr! She would bite my ankles through my whole life up until about 5th grade, well it seemed like my whole life. So my church life was not very strong.As a side note: In no way do I blame anyone for my lack of church attendance. My mom did go more often but my father never did and I was a daddy’s girl. I would beg to stay home with him because he was always working on the farm in some way. I loved my farm, it was the most heavenly place on earth. Why would I want to go to a hot, stuffy church where I had to sit still. So I was relentless begging to stay home. And in that day, life was uneasy for my mom and the days were soon to be over for my happy home life so she was slammed with hard choices, no biggies, we survived) As I grew up I would periodically visit with some of my school friends at their church but not really very much. So when later in my life I actually took God for a spin I found out to my amazement that He is really cool. He really does care and he loves me most of all and I made the pledge to myself I would never be scared of Him again. So when I am able to speak into a child’s life and tell them how much God loves them and he is waiting to talk to them I try to help them become comfortable with entering into this friendship with Him. He is waiting and today those precious children, some younger and some older, were reaching up and out to love Him. So at one point the call came out for healing and me being the backward type hesitated to raise my hand for prayer but then I got the boldness from those kids. They were doing just what I said, NO FEAR! How could I back down now? So I asked for prayer and I received prayer….from those sweet babies lips my need was taken to God, with full belief that it will be done. God get ready…I am going for it. I am walking in faith. You are faithful and the lessons I have learned from the time spent with these kids is like marrow to my bones. Thank you for your love and grace. Yep, the little children will lead us, now that is cool!
Comfort Food
Today while I was out in the garden or should I say tomato patch, I was reaching to get a few of the nearly ripe ones and my toes squished into the wet ground. We had only a small rain burst but it was enough to make the air steamy and muggy. I love the south! But the garden dirt had become a thick mud and it reminded me of when I was younger and my daddy would plow up the garden; a big one, and the big mounds of dirt were all rolled over and I would run behind him and jump from one mound to the next. There was something about that thick mud that felt so good on my feet. The smell was as rich as the good smell of strong coffee. Things like that were a comfort to me, something you could count on year after year. The same reason I always without fail smell a book, new or old. It is a classic move of mine as well as sniff a new box of crayola crayons. That’s what the thought of fall on its way reminds me of, all the certain-ness. There are just certain things and times of year that are comforting. Like these things are comfort food to my spirit. There are so many times in my life that I have wondered and said out loud, what in the world is going on! Everyone has these times. But I can usually survive if I can get to what is home to me. New school supplies, fresh notebook paper that hasn’t been marked on or bent and erasers that haven’t been blackened and those wonderful crayons, always crayola by the way, that smell sooo good. And the smell of a tomato straight from the vine, that smell is pure and fresh and an amazement to see it comes from that smelly dirt. That God, he sure is smart!
Blogging
Blogging
Someone asked me the other day why I blog? I had a hard time answering the question…I think because all the answers sounded so silly as they were coming out of my mouth. I even thought I sounded a little crazy, so then it got me thinking …why? Back in the old school days I would journal. This consisted of a real pen and real paper, preferably a nice “nothing book” another old school name for a book with blank pages! So now with blogging it is the same but more public and I am at a place in my life that I feel like I may have a voice, something to say, about life and kids and friends and family and God. Whether or not anyone wants to hear it, now that’s yet to be decided…….if anyone who reads can deal with the fact that I don’t always catch my grammar or punctuation mistakes then they could probably make it through my ramblings . I am not about to write and rewrite…it messes with the flow, edit me if you want! Writing is about getting in touch with that side of myself that needs to be heard. When I was growing up, I felt that I didn’t have anyone to listen to me. Sure I talked…if you know me you know I talk! but, it was hard to find anyone who really listened. As a parent I don’t think I even did this right, I know I did try to but I am sure my kids would say ,”nope, you never listened to us” grrrrrr, little rat finks. They sell you out in a new york minute…haha! But really I did try to because I remembered how hard it was to be noticed as a child. When I teach kids now, I spend the first few minutes or however long it takes, allowing them to share whats on their mind. It is amazing what they talk about and that always reminds me of what I must sound like to God…..and the fact that He likes to listen to me talk is pretty awesome. The day I realized that HE loves to hear my voice was the day I felt free from a childhood of feeling unwelcome even in my family. I know they loved me but I was in the way, it felt like, most of the time. I know it is the baby of the family syndrome…but in our house it was just everyman for himself. So talking and nobody really listening made for a lonely little girl. So I journal ed…and I loved it. I became free to say whatever I wanted to and it was joyous. So why do I blog??? Because I can!
Hearts of my heart
Today (Sept. 21, 2009) I am reminded of two special events in my life, the birthday of two of my sons. One of them will be twenty-two, he is a very tall, beautiful man. His good looks are striking and he is more like me than all the rest. When he was born he was only thirteen months after my beloved only daughter and he was magnificent. He never gave me a bit of trouble, always very compliant and slept through the night almost immediately. He had large eyes and his coloring was from my side…just like my Daddy’s. I was a proud mother. The first two were all their daddy, beautiful blond hair, blue eyes and rosy skin. But this special little boy was all me; well until he grew up and I realized that personality of his is all my husbands! Not to throw any stones…I am just sayin’! I love them both of course so it is okay. I am putty in their hands though, those big puppy eyes are too much for this mom to endure. He is the most quite one of all my children and it seems hard to break through to his thoughts and heart. But when he was young, how I treasured those times when he would stay close by my side and allow me to pet him and love on him. He was my puppy and I was his best friend; sometimes I wonder if he has struggled with the fact of losing his “baby” of the family status, I hope not since he will always be in my heart as just that! Today he is a year older, on to a grown-up life and some other woman one day will have his heart. (fighting back tears now!) She better like me?
The other son will be thirteen! And life has just begun for him…the clock starts now: three years until he drives!(yikes, fighting back tears, again!) But as I think back to thirteen years ago today and my waiting on the next day(I happened to have four c-sections, by the way) which was planned; both of these sons were also born on the same day as UT vs Florida! Needless to say, I wasn’t the most important person on that day, to my husband nor my Doctor! In actuality, he got me finished before the game started..worked out for everyone; the Doctor was finished so he could watch the game (they were born at UT Hospital also, I was doomed!…and my husband could watch in my room while I was all knocked out on recovery drugs so everyone was happy.
When this little caboose(definite last one!) was born, we all were thrilled. The other kids were excited, he was nine years after the other last one so we all had a little playmate that we could cuddle and love and he was the funnest(it’s a word!) toy they had ever gotten. We all were involved and he was a joy. As for me this was the child that was my last-ditch at being young. I was older of course but he rejuvenated me and I realize now that after the next few years of events in my life, this little boy would be what most likely gave me the energy and will to get out of bed everyday. There were days when I was not sure I could even have a coherent thought; yet when I knew I was who he depended on to be the mom…well that was all I needed. I will thank the Lord everyday for this blessed child. He has been the most amazing person and I can not wait to see what a man he will become. I know that when I turn around he will be grown and I will be left only to cry. But for now I have the luxury of his love and attention and he still thinks I am smart; I actually give him about two to three more years and he too will think of new ways to send me over the edge just like his siblings before him.
So today I am both sad and excited. Sad because my oldest three children are off on their own adventures, a time I thought I looked forward to, but was wrong. I miss the late nite talks and the chaos! But excited at what the days will bring this last young son. The world is wide open for him the Lord has such a plan for his life. I have been the most blessed woman to ever live……I am a wife and the mother of four healthy strong children. The road has not always been smooth but it is the path that God has put before me and He has kept me the whole way. I will never deny His leading in my life. I am in awe of where I have come from to where I am today…I know that He loved me enough to die for me and he loves my children that way too. He has a plan for all of them and I pray daily that they will walk in His love and peace and trust in Him. I trust Him to keep them and all the truths that we have taught them will be what keeps them strong all the days of their lives. All we have is our testimony and if I can ever convey His love and provision for me and His faithfulness then I am a success
Fear vs Faith
FEAR…..who was it that said..”all we have to fear is fear itself.” Winston Churchill..I think or FDR. I don’t know at the moment, I hear age does that to you, lose your memory and eyesight. Looks like I am done for since both are evaporating as I speak. So, to this notion of fear. I have actually come to the realization that fear is one of the most annoying of all emotions. Fear is a lack of faith…fear is a self inflicting wound that immobilize us to the point of no ability to move forward. The frustrating thing about it is that I never realized how much fear I have been living with. Something has to be terribly wrong when fear becomes more powerful than anything else. It is as if Mr Freeze (Batman reference) came along and just blasted us with a stiff toxic slime for which we can’t escape. A straight jacket of sorts which keeps us bound up and unable to move even a little finger. I can honestly say that this fear can become a way of life…and if left unchecked it can consume your every thought. Well no more, no more fear! It is fear itself that is the obstacle. Fear is the road block. So how do we combat this tyrant of pain? Stop it! Sometimes you gotta become Nancy Reagan and just say “NO!” No more pain and no more lack of fun and no more bologna! (Inside joke) Fear is the opposite of faith and being opposite of faith is a bummer. I have said before..there must be More…and there is more. Saying No to fear is the first step to more and allowing faith to prevail is the cure. Fear is not the boss of me any more…..I am old (I am gonna wear that one out!)and I have nothing to lose. I might as well go with it, you were right Winston, fear is no biggie. I don’t even have Hitler chasing me…
Grudge Match
I have lived a long full life and I give all the credit for my survival to the pure and strong Grace of God. I have attempted to treat people as I want to be treated, knowing of course that I have failed many times even though I have tried to get it right. Nobody’s perfect? But now at this time in my life I find myself in an awkward situation, one that is too hard and too painful for me to even see any sign of comfort. I know that I am strong-willed and very forceful at times to make my point. I am the person that is carted off to jail only because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut…”but judge, if you would just let me tell you what I meant I know you would understand my side”…be silent, judge says…”but judge if you would let me have my say!”….”silent in the court!” says judge to stubborn women….”pleeeaase judge if only…..” ” 5 extra years to the lady who can’t shut up!” This of course is only an example of what might happen if I ever were in that situation, I have never been….so no rumours, please. HA! But I am usually always determined to speak my peace. But, when I find myself in a situation where I have no control and someone else decides to clam up…not talk about it….can live 40 years and never speak of the said incident….well, grrrrrr! I am not built that way…I don’t hold grudges and I am no match for anyone who does. So what to do when I have possibly landed in the No Go Zone….the place between the rock and the hard place? Its dark and scary there and my heart breaks that I have anything between me and another person…but I am unable to fix it. Being a fixer by trade this is a pickle of a mess. All I can conclude is that in my heart of hearts I am one person trying to show love to another and caught in a match of wills. No prob figuring out what I will do, actually. Nothing. I give, I can’t win…don’t really want to; I just want closure. Note to self…stop pushing, leave it alone, don’t pick at it. Wish I had gotten that note before I made a mess of it all. I guess it wouldn’t be a match if I had!
Great Expectations
Great Expectations
The great expectations of a new year are always, without any amount of humility as a rule a let down. This is even said by a person who mostly always sees the “cup half full” and is always trying to make lemon-aide and put the best foot forward and picking myself up by my bootstraps. I have to say that the awe of the coming new chapters in one’s life are usually met slap in the face with the brutal reality of everyday ho-hum. The anticipation is high but the reality of it all tends to be repetitious and freakishly normal which brings me to the realization that life is what we live and without some sense of purpose it becomes a routine for which I would rather just skip. I say all this to myself only to remind myself that this is the best time to start making better choices with the time I do spend…life is short and much like the proverbial vapor which quickly plumes out into the unknown. Our lives have a purpose for which they were created and that is just what I will pursue. I have thought that I had found my purpose but as I age (ugh!) I am seeing more and more that there are many more opportunities to realize my purpose. Today it may be to help a stranger out a door with her heavy groceries and tomorrow it may be to read to my son who is well above the age to be read to but still loves it even so. I never want to stop pursuing the purpose for my life as if I am done, finis….thththats all folks! Nope…I need to be of use to someone besides myself, I am bored with the mundane and I ask the Lord to direct my paths to those who need what I have to offer…His Love. This is nothing profound but more often it is simple and base. It is a “Magnificent Obsession” to take a title from one of my favorite movies (Jane Wyman and Rock Hudson…btw)it is an unruly unsettling which causes me to never stop trying to share God’s love and His sacrifice for us. I know that I am not worth all he has done for me and yet I understand His passion, only because I am a mother…a love for which has no bounds and one that I can see would cause me to give my life for my children. Poor Jesus but even more poor Heavenly Father who gave up so much for us who waste so much for nothing. I can only start fresh now….expecting greatness and hopefully by His grace will complete the good work He has already started in me.
Blazing Fires
Blazing fires
Today I was reminded of a memory while I was shivering from the cold (have I mentioned how much I hate cold weather!). While I was standing in front of our gas fireplace attempting to get warmer,I thought back to the days when this was the only way to get warm. Back then the fireplace in our old farm-house was two-sided and it was huge and it heated the whole house. The other side faced my sisters and my bedroom. There is nothing like three girls sharing the same room…more fun than a barrel of monkeys, at least that was my perspective. I would say that if they were asked the story would be very different! Anyways,this was not a gas fireplace mind you, but one that we had to haul coal in for. I say a “we” as if I was one of the ones who did this…because of my young age I usually wasn’t. I would watch my older siblings pick up the coal bucket and go out into the freezing dark night and get it full of coal, hands black from the residue and they were just young kids themselves. When you are raised on a farm everyone pitches in and there were jobs for us all. This fireplace was the most magical place of all in our house, with the exception of the “chifferobe” (say that the way it looks, because I know it has a real name but we called it that) that “chifferobe” was very clearly the same wardrobe that Lucy crawled into only to find the land of Narnia. I was convinced of this fact of course and it was in my mom and dads room for safety’s sake and to keep us out of it! There was one at my granny and papa’s house also so it must have been common back then so that people always had an escape route to a better place. Nonetheless, the next best was the fireplace. At night my two “older” (ha) sisters and I would play blind mans bluff by the light of the fire. It was just scary enough in that room to be fun. Now that I think of it that game was sorta like Marco Polo without the swimming pool! Well then, sometimes we would just lay there and talk, my one sister was always one to tell a great story. She has a writers imagination and has always been able to conjure up a new and magical world to make-believe in. This fire back then was big enough to heat up the whole house, of course this house was not so big. It had a living Room and our bedroom and a small room for our parents and we had a porch turned into a room for my brother. So the fire was to be working overtime to keep us warm. There isn’t much better than a real fire, with the beautiful embers glowing that appear to be alive and call out to me. I do feel like if I stare at the fire too long I will inevitably fall into it. It tends to be mesmerizing. You just don’t get all this with a stack of gas logs and a “fake” fire. I don’t actually want to go back to those days but I do see the advantage of a fire blazing and the memory of days when the fire blazed within our own family, before we became a statistic. The days on the farm were numbered and in not too many years we would all leave there. Our family would divide and it would be the beginning of the end, or at least to me. As I remember back to those days I am honored to have lived them and comforted by the fact that I have been blessed with a big family…standing in front of the gas logs and instead of “blind mans bluff” I hear the laughter of my family playing Frisbee golf on the new fangled video system…Wii. Pretty funny actually to watch them all play but even more it is time well spent laughing and arguing and loving each other. And just in case the score isn’t accurately told….let me just say…girls rule! Still and always will! Memories are good. They are simple reminders of how gracious and loving our God is to us. Even the bad memories, make for the realization of His mercy and grace. We are still here standing by the fire, mesmerized by the flames and waiting to make new memories and I still hate the cold weather!
Lucky for Me!
Lucky for me?
Wow…time sure does fly…or at least that’s what they say. Who is(are) they, anyways? They sure are smart and seem to be very wise. Who can argue with they? Not me, there are too many of them! I only make the statement about time and then prove my point at the same time….time flies! In reference to time I have to say that I am of the mind that it is sooooo short but yet sooooo long depending on the need at hand. So very short when you are taking a test or when you see an old friend, then you beg for more time. Make deals with all who could possibly help for more time. But then, when you are waiting for a bus or news on the health of a loved one or a new job….tick toc tick tock! Ugh, it is awful and seems to be more of a mean trick than just the simple fact that things just take time. I know that there is logical explanations on this subject of time going slow or fast. The plain truth is that time is what it is…there are twenty-four hours in a day and sixty minutes in an hour and sixty seconds in a minute and when you are waiting on news of some event in your life those seconds and minutes and days seem like an eternity. I know all this to be true because of course since I am of the impatient sort this time ticking slowly by is my cloak of horror. With disdain and contempt I wait and wait until it seems like I just might die….note to self: If ever I decided to take up dramatic acting…do so! I surely think I would be good at it since every little episode in my life seems to be a major one-act play, two if I am lucky and the clock ticks even slower! I guess the lesson to be learned with all this waiting is that there are lessons to be learned and time given to gain perspective on one’s life and see that we aren’t always so great at figuring it all out by ourselves. Sometimes it’s good to have a second opinion, more than the other voice in your head! Thanks Lord for your patience! you are pretty cool that way…lucky for me!
WoW!
WoW!
There are days that I would wish beyond all wishes that I could sing…well. My wish would not be to be a great superstar singer, or even a cool rock-n-roll chick, (though I must admit at one time I did want to be Stevie Nicks), but I regress. It is that I imagine that if I had the ability to express, in song, how much I love and honor our Lord; with just one bit of worship that would maybe give him the glory He deserves. WoW! It is beyond me, that place that is so real and soothing all the way to your very soul, yet if just for a fleeting moment. That moment you actually feel in the presence of God. There have been few songs that have caused me to fall flat on my face in worship, but when that time comes, it feels as if I have been transformed from here to there, where ever there is. It is the euphoria I felt at the time I saw my babies come forth and be the all-in-all for my soul. The historic moment when I knew beyond measure how much God loved me. What a gift! I am amazed at His trust in me to bring these lives to me to love, as He loves me. Though daily I feel my clay feet, clomping around without so much as a prayer of success, to live up to the blessings He has given me, He believes in me much more than I believe in myself. But then when those select moments come, of pure joy in His constant love and compassion, I find myself overcome with the understanding of His grace. Oh how He loves me……I can only respond with tears with an unabashed sense of His favor that keeps me walking for another day, and then another. I regret my carnal nature is ever-present and my laziness and lack of structure keeps me away from these special glimpses into His heart. For that I so repent and pray for strength to forge on, to find that time with Him, my most constant friend. Oh how he loves me so.
preacherswifeintheknow 