The Farmer and the Lord

I haven't written on my blog in quite a while, so I thought it was time. I was listening to a Gaither Homecoming special the other day and hear Jimmy Dean so this old song. I thought the lyrics were so appropriate for all of us. We tend to put God on such a high plain, that we forget He is our Father...our Daddy, and He wants us to love and converse with him as though we are forever His children. I think these words convey that thought beautifully.

While resting the other evening by the side of the road
I saw an old famer in a field that he had just hoed.
His face was all brown and wrinkled by the sun and the wind
And he was talking to the Lord just like he'd be talking to a friend.

'Well,' he said with his voice calm and quiet,
'Them corn husks need shucking, and I got no string to tie it;
We aint had no rain in so long that the fields are dry and dusty,
And it's so unbearable hot that the kids are even gettin' fussy.

Now that grass down in the pasture, well it should be knee high.
If we could just get a little shower, Lord, it might even keep the cow from going dry.
Oh...but listenin' to me talkin' you'd think I wasn't grateful.
Why, if You didn't know me so well, Lord, You'd think I was down right hateful.

You'd think I'd forgot about that new calf that You sent,
And the money in the mail that took care of the rent.
Mama's cough's got better, and Johnny's home from the Navy,
And that good Sunday dinner of hot chicken and dumplin's and gravy;

And that new preacher You send us Lord, well he's a fine young man
Why he's just convertin' those sinners to beat the band.
Well, I guess I'll mosey on home, Lord, and I won't take no more of your time.
I guess there's plenty folks out there waiting to ring your line.

Evenin' to ya Lord, and watch over us tonight,
And don't you worry 'bout us, Lord, 'cause everything's gonna be alright.'

In Memorium

With the birth of our child, we are irrevocably, joyfully, wonderfully, forever changed. With the death of any child, we are unalterably diminished.

And we cry. Throats so tight with grief that words will not come. The constriction moves to our heart and settles in a cold lump. Oceans of tears do not assuage the pain.

How do we get through another day without the benefit of that smile, the quick hug, the bubbling contagious laughter?

How do we reconcile the unfailing trust of one so young, that in its greatness would fill volumes, yet that now will remain unpenned? I look at those around me, and I see their grief. Theirs not mine, mine not theirs, but we mourn the same.

We mourn a life cut short, future deeds unachieved, a history unwritten, a message unshared. And yet, because of those around me, I am face with the reality that while his life may have been cut short, it was far, oh so very, very far from uneventful.

And while I no longer have the joy of knowing him on this earth, it is with a sure and certain hope that I look to see him again - on the other side of Morning. I will not see chemo-sunken cheeks, but a rainbow-wreathed brow; Not a tumor swollen tummy, but arms outstretched, pain-free wide; Not a tear, not a sigh, just immeasurable, eternal love, and unending praise for the Creator.

Never doubt in the dark what you have learned in the light. Do not trade what you know for what you do not know.

When you come to the end of yourself, you find the beginning of God.

He's My Brother

There are moments in life that define all your other moments in life. Today, I am sitting in a hospital room with my brother, Chuck. There is no real noise, only the rain and the slow rhythm of his breathing. I sit and watch his every move, just trying to burn an image of his sweet face into my mind's eye. The cancer raging within him has made him a shell of his former self, but this is not what my heart sees.

I see a precious boy with curls in his hair who won't let anyone open the door for him to come inside the house. "I want mama to do it!" he screams as he defiantly backs up from the door. I see the little boy who climbed in my bed during a thunder storm and snuggled tight under the covers. I see chairs stacked up and blankets flying as we struggled to complete a giant tent with doors and rooms that covered the den floor. My brother, sister and I would sit in the main room of the tent, which was right in front of the TV, so that we could watch cartoons or MTV.

When I look at my brother, I remember him as my roommate in college; teaching him how to cook pork chops and sweet potatoes so he could have dinner when I had to go to class. I remember helping him do his laundry and showing him how to work the coin operated machines.

We have always been there for each other; through childhood, college, marriage, and having our children later in our lives than our friends. I see his face in my mind and I envision the tremendous love he displays for his wife, and how much he loves the thought of growing old with her and having her for his best friend. I see the true joy that he gets in just being a daddy to his beautiful son.

All those days are now past, and we are coming to the final journey in our lives together on his earth. And while I know I will see him again - ultimately healed by Christ - my heart aches for that sweet curly headed boy messing up the house after I'd cleaned it; laughing at silly jokes and playing air guitar to rock music. My heart aches that what was once the three of us as siblings will now be two, with one always missing. This is my baby brothers, after all, and there is something inherently wrong about losing him so young; something wrong about being a part of all the wonderful things he will miss that he should not have had to miss. However, in these last few, sweet, quiet moments of his life, I am so blessed and grateful to have known him; so fortunately to have had him grace my life.

Yes, there are moments in life that define all your other moments in life...This is one of those moments.

I love you Chuck...always

...and Ladybugs

Times can be tough, and sometimes life isn't always the bowl of cherries it should be. Occasionally, we need to see the world through a new set of eyes. Recently after a long hard work day, I came home with only one thing in mind...rest. However, my 3 year old had other ideas. He quickly led me to the back yard where I realized he didn't just want to play. He was on a mission. He was on a bug hunt.

Now the average girl in me isn't really all that thrilled with the thought of looking at bugs. But when I became a mother, I made a decision to always keep the world an open place of discovery for him. Creepy crawly things don't usually do much for me, but seeing them through Caden's eyes made them a lot more interesting.

Usually, he wants to look at ants. He can stare at them running around their mound for hours. However, it wasn't ants this time that held his attention. It was ladybugs. Our back yard is usually full of them this time of year, and they crawl on everything. It's really quite a site to see. It became Caden's mission to find them all.

I never thought about how small ladybugs are until I tried to find them on purpose, but my eagle-eyed child could spot that tiny red bug under a small blade of grass from half way across the yard! We searched over every inch of yard and every blade of grass until he had found every ladybug he could find. He let them crawl on his hands and arms and was completely fascinated by them. He noticed everything.... how they range in color from yellowy orange to dark red.... how they can crawl upside down....that you don't notice they have wings until they lift their shell to fly away.... or how they will stand montionless when startled.

It wasn't long before I realized that my bad day had disappeared. I thought of how good God was to give me a new pair of eyes with which to see the world; to see the world as He had intended it to be seen. Through Caden's eyes, I saw wonder, amazement, nature, and love....and ladybugs.

O What A Story - A Blessing Came Anyway

I occasionally wonder why I don't lay more burdens at God's feet and walk away. It seems that when I actually do that, the burden is always lifted, and I always get a return blessing. That was the case this weekend.

For weeks I have been on a "worry tear" about my solo in this year's church Christmas celebration. I have been given many solos over the years and never thought much about most of them. I just try to convey the song's message in the most meaningful way I can. I have always realized that my voice is not mine, but God's, and He will do all the singing if only I will get out of His way. Unfortunately, I might have forgotten that recently, although I don't think without a little merit. When the songs were assigned, I truly was flabbergasted. I didn't receive just ANY song. It was THE song, and not just THE song, but the most quintessential Christmas song of all...O Holy Night.

O Holy Night, is not an easy song to sing. It has an odd timing, and it's not very melodic; however, it has a very powerful message. This particular arrangement was one that was a true stretch of my vocal range. I was petrified from the start - a position with which I am not normally familiar. I stewed about it for weeks; asked advice from trained vocalists on tips to sing it correctly; and joked about how in the world I was going to handle the final measures of the song. I must have listened to that song in my car everyday going to and from work, and all day on the computer while I was at work. It still unnerved me.

I wanted so desperately to get it right, but what I didn't do is really give it to the Lord. Finally, right before I took the microphone on the first night, I did just that. I prayed - "Lord, not my voice, but yours; not me but you; not my message, but yours; please sing this for me." Then, a strange thing happened. I stood in center stage and felt the most amazing rush from my feet to my head! I nearly cried. It was almost as if the Lord said - "OK, just back off. It's my turn." I was completely at peace, but I didn't remember where we were in the music! That may explain why I came in 4 measures to early!!

What happened after that was nothing short of a "God Thing." The other 2 performances went off virtually without a hitch. I hit and sustained notes I never thought I could. It seemed almost easy. I didn't feel strained or tired. I truly didn't feel like I had done anything; however, I was strangely emotional. The last night, I could no longer hold back emotion. It was so overwhelming to me - what God had done. He had taken this enormous song and fit it to my small voice, and then He sang it through me! I just couldn't hold back tears any longer. I knew that my Heavenly Father had done it again.

I was very much aware that God had drawn His people closer to Him through all the music during those nights. I heard it in the voices of the people who were so moved by what we accomplished. They knew that God was there, and that He loved them. They knew it because He manifested Himself through all of us in verse and song.

I was also very much aware of the fact that he was granting me a 2-fold blessing. I was privileged to receive an ovation for my performance. I didn't even know I received an ovation the first night! I was told after the fact. God allowed me to see that people appreciated the talent that He bestowed upon me. In addition, He allowed me to see the blessing it gave to others. Praise the Lord, children were saved! I had people pray with me, tell me how that song was just what they needed to hear, and just weep that God had spoken to them through that song. It was incredibly humbling to be a part of something that was totally orchestrated by God, Himself. What do you say when you truly know that it wasn't you, but God. An amazed 'thank you' is all I could think of to say.

I am always amazed at the way that God showers us with blessings when we aren't looking for one. It wasn't about me or what I could do or how well I could sing. It wasn't about our choir and how much we'd rehearsed or how well we'd sung. It was all about God and how He chose to work through His servants and bless His people. I believe He did that this weekend with our choir. God reminded me and all of us just what Christmas is all about.

Let every voice sing and rejoice;
for God so loved the world... O What A Story!

A Vessel For Honor

2 Timothy 2:20-21

But in a great house
there are not only vessels of gold and of silver, but also of wood and of earth; and some to honor, and some to dishonour.

If a man therefore purge himself from these, he shall be a vessel for honor, sanctified, and meet for the master's use, and prepared unto every good work.

This is indeed a challenge. How difficult is it to purge ourselves from all that is from the Evil One if we cannot discern what is truly evil? I think that is a question better left up to God. Only He can make that discernment. More often than not, we are faced with issues that are not necessarity bad in themselves; however, they are not what the Master truly intended for us.

It was this subject that was posed to a group of women, of which I was apart, this weekend. How can we be vessels for honor. Ephesians 2:10 says - We are His workmanship, created for good works in Christ Jesus. This is a far reaching scripture. If we love God, then we will love His will for us, and His holy commands. There will be no questions, only praise for all the good and bad through which He brings us. He calls us to offer up ourselves, a living sacrifice to Him. In doing so, we cannot keep even the smallest part of ourselves. This means dying to ourselves in Jesus Christ and arising to new life in Him. Surrendering our physical and spiritual selves to all of His desires.

The word ALL is a vast word... our habits, our worries, our fears, our joys, our contentments, our language, our jobs, our dreams, our hopes... and the list goes on and on. This was the challenge from the Women's Ministry Conference held this weekend by Hillcrest Baptist Church. Dew4Him Ministries speaker, Jane Wolfe asked us to consider our "Take Away Message." What do people take away from a sighting or a meeting with us each time our paths cross? It's up to us to make sure that message is as pure as we can muster.

God is desperate to reach us and bring us closer into His fold. He sees us struggle with our transgressions daily. He is battling with us, and He will battle FOR us if we will let Him. I made my own promises to God this weekend. I challenge you to study this scripture and make your own promises to Him. I know that with prayer and supplication, God will mold me into the vessel for honor that he has always known I could be.

But Then...Caden Laughs

There's always some event or issue that causes us to reflect on the tangled web that is our life. It could be a family illness or tragedy, a celebration, a holiday or something simple like watching your child sleep soundly in his bed. Mine came last night as I was listening to my son laughing as he was playing in his room, I thought about how fortunate I am to have him in my life. I realized that whatever fills my head each day can all be solved by hearing that laugh.

I started planning on things we can do together as a family, and inevitably, I realize how full my calendar is each week: working full time as a commercial property manager, trying to educate myself in my field by taking classes and joining organizations, actively involved in church - singing in 2 ensembles and the adult choir, and teaching a children's praise team.

It seemed there's never enough time to do what I want to do. Then I thought about the difference between what I want to do and what I need to do and how I should balance that in my life. I can't think of any greater purpose in my life than being a mother. I am so in love with my son - probably no more than any other mother loves their children. However, I think I definitely appreciate my son more now than I would have at an earlier age. It seems I waited so long to have him, I can't imagine devoting my life to anything else. This concept is a little foreign to those of my friends who have had their children a while and are comfortable with parenthood. I have turned down engagements when it meant I would be spending time away from my son.

I recently went on a day trip and did not take him with me. Although I enjoyed my time, I missed him terribly. I thought about his reaction when he sees me after work each day - laughing that laugh and shouting "Mommy!" and running as fast as he can into my arms. It's the greatest thing, and I couldn't wait to have that again.

I'm scheduled to go on an overnight trip this weekend, and I won't be able to take my son with me. I know I will benefit from the time I'll spend with my friends as we study God's word, but I still have that longing to be home with Caden playing in the backyard and watching him fall down in laughter after a ride down the slide. I'm sure what I feel is no different than what other working moms feel: that we don't get to spend as much time as we'd like with our children. I'm keenly aware of that fact, and because I'm an older mom, I know how precious that time is. I don't want to miss a minute of it.

However....God forces me to stop and think about all of this. When we pause and take a breath, we realize that God really is in control. He knows that path chosen for our lives. It's a delicate balance between self and work and family, and sometimes the guilt of not being able to do it all is a little overwhelming. I know that there are moments when I need to be apart from my kids - if for no other reason that to grow in myself. God will see to it that my son knows he is loved by the actions that I am led to take during his growing up years.

Yes, there is wonder and uncertainty, but then....Caden laughs!