Mid-Summer Memories

Hello you lovely folks, you.

It is August already and I am enjoying some much needed quietness at the local library which has almost turned back the hands of the clock and stopped in years past, when men ran libraries with full suits on, card catalogs still gathered dust, and air conditioning rattled false ceiling.

And I am thinking about this wonderful life that has ebbed and flowed for us this Summer.

Abby got new glasses. Seeing her fiddle with them reminds me of 4th grade, and wishing for glasses and braces so I could fit in. I wish and pray for her to love however God alters her eyes, teeth, hair and height. Just love her and her scars from stitches from falling out of trees.

Just like I did when I was her age.

Lately the Lord has seen fit to bring me through a period of rest. I am back to testing for various and sundry things that make my heart skip, my energy just out of grasp, and my mind fuzzy.

I have been through this a few times and each time I am an emotional wreck.

Except for this time.

This time I am resting in Him who knows the end from the beginning. I am praying over appointments, over stressful situations, over dishes for strength and at bedtime for sleep.

God is more than enough for me.

For you too.

I am sitting next to the magazine section where various titles jump out at me regarding what was innocent turned cancer. I used to shy from even seeing the word. Who wouldn't?

But I am realizing that God is here with me.

In me.

He alone gives us the strength we need for each day. I am letting Him guide me with His eye.

Yesterday I was feeling particularly miserable in body and spirit and I decided to enjoy the kids.

Yes, I decided.

I picked beans with them, and as one son commented on how he needed to grab this weed he found from the root or it would only grow back, I had the great privilege to also remind him that the soil of our hearts can become filled with weeds that needed a good pulling.

From the root.

We sweat, pick and I take them to the porch where I sit and snap beans and watch them put on a play for me in the front yard. The cars look on as they pass by, some older folks, some young.

And for a second it hits me that they might see me snapping beans and the kids frolicking and want to stop a while and enjoy this wonderful life with me.

It has been a while since I have enjoyed children……… my children.

The workers at the bank, the store, the library, tell them how lovely they are.

Do I tell them too?

I laugh at the myriad of funny faces they are giving me. They interview each other with a paintbrush, asking one another what makes a good family.

I smile.

Have I shown them?

Am I showing them?


Joel told me the other day that corn is one of the only plants that he knows of that doesn't droop when it needs water.

I look at him puzzled.

"It points up when it needs rain."

It felt like he, not even meaning to, saw into my heart in the midst of drought.

I turned so he wouldn't see the tear falling and whispered into the car window,

"It knows where it's help comes from."

The Lord Himself answered,

"YES."

My mind just swirled.

The sparrow, the lily of the field,

the.... corn?

All of them fret not, nor toil, nor spin.

Their heavenly father knows what they need.

He knows we need a good soft rain.

He knows I need a good soft rain.

And He reminds me to look up.

Look up.

And so I begin to take my eyes off of the unknown and worrisome now, and look up.

We put the kids in a tent in the yard and roast marshmallows.

De-lish.

I shouldn't.

But I do.

And I eat and let the marshmallow kids kiss my cheek and we laugh as our daughter keeps losing hers to the fire and we just keep laughing until it is time to go to sleep.

We sit out by the fire and comfort son who keeps poking his nose out because of fear.

So much like me.

We answer the "What if's."

I think of God.

And how much more patient He is with me, than I am with my son, who is so like me.

We sit and decide to watch for falling stars.

Joel has seen so many in his life already.

He is accustomed to looking up.

I am not.

I have never seen one.

And then almost taking my breath away it happens.

It jets across the sky!

I am in awe.

This is commonplace to Joel.

This is life altering to me.

I thank God and clap my hands together. I think of Job, who in great affliction and trial hears God tell him of his greatness and all that He created, reminding him that He can be trusted again and again.

We map out the constellations and enjoy life. Together.

I look at my sweet husband, all loving and patient, look at my tent of kids and at a star filled night and my heart is full.

I will decide to stop looking for answers.

I will keep looking up.

Sweet Mid Summer's to you all!

Grace is flowing.......

I heard a story recently from a sweet Pastor's Wife's own lips that frankly, still has me grinning from ear to ear.

She told me that she was in the car with her husband reading him a book regarding health. His health. He had been having a time physically and she, doing what all of us good wives would do, found some sort of information on how to help. AND SHARED. Well, apparently he was none the excited about what she was sharing, and when sweet she noticed that he was NOT noticing turned and asked him, "Are you even gonna DO any of these things I am telling you about??" And a turn of the head was the reply.

A horizontal turn of the head in case you were wondering.

And with that she rolled down her window and threw out the book.

(pause to grasp this friends)

SHE THREW THE BOOK OUT THE WINDOW.

Like, on the road.

And THAT. THAT makes me happy.

Giddy actually.

They were a happily married couple, faithfully serving the Lord, raising a Godly brood, and her, now in her I believe 60's, smiled as she relayed the circumstances to me that beautiful Spring afternoon. She even chuckled telling me that she had to go back to the woman who gave her the book and tell her what happened and asked her if she could have another one.

That would never come close to a window again unless she was putting it on the shelf.

Everyone has "life days."

I had one today.

And I am sitting on the bed, coffee nearby, wrapped in my fav blanket that was a gift from my sis in law her first Christmas with the fam. I am surrounded by happy.

And in my happy spot, I unfold the napkin of days events to relay them to you.

But the beginning begins with the end of my day funny enough.

Just a few minutes ago, while finishing up my time in my "think tank" otherwise known as the show-er, I realized the kids had taken all of the towels to various and sundry parts of the house.

Hmmph.

So as I was preparing to wash my face, I got a good look at me, with my electric blue shirt wrapped around my head, with one earring showing and smiled thinking how closely I resembled an African woman.

These are "life day" moments.

They catch you off guard and smile and say, "Hello. This is your life. Dealwithit."

And sometimes you smile.

And sometimes you throw the book out the window.

On to today.....

Today we had a LOT on our plate.

And most of it was Brussel sprouts honestly.

But we were off and running and we whizzed to the first thing.

This put us in a situation where God led us to a man who so ministered to my husband. I sat and watched and smiled. I looked at the man, and then I looked at my husband. I looked back and the man and then again at my husband. I watched a sweet volley of conversation that was God ordained. Water to dry ground.

It was as if God said, "You need some grace poured into some cracks you have? Here ya go."

And conversation flowed.

And grace flowed.

Then in a flash we were gone and to our next event. It was a Graduation party. Just a party.

I should have known that a few life lessons were gonna show up and God would be working. He does love to work in base things, does He not?

We arrived and began the ascent to the house, barely standing. People drinking, laughing, hushing when we drew near to them.

I smiled, handed the graduate her card and sat next to one of our members. She looked uneasy, and I wanted to tell her, "Girl, the 'uneasy' is where I come alive!" We talked and laughed, were fed and the graduate and her fiance came to talk.

We have tried our dead level best to encourage them. Counsel them. But they would not.

Now, a week away from marrying, they both have STD's and our graduate is expecting.

I winced as each new "fact" was presented to us. I just died inside for them. No wisdom. Hard choices. No foundation for marriage. New baby.

Now I am not a "hide it on the outside" person. If I am sad, I show it. If I am happy, I show it.

Maybe good, maybe bad. But nevertheless it's me.

And out of the corner of my eye I see him.

An old him.

Old, tanned, wrinkled and every ounce persnickety.

He smokes and looks on.

He cannot hear our conversation, but he can see my face.

I swallow hard.

I listen on. Joel is all of grace. I am burying my head in pasta salad.

I literally want to run and hide, scream and come back to resume my Pastor's Wifely duties.

I cannot.

I look at their hands, showing rings already worn before any ceremony, clutching pop, nervous.

I look at their eyes, flinching, sad, scared.

They need grace.

They "want to make the best" of the situation. They want "to beat the odds."

CAN God take this.

Can he use us to pour grace into hard deep cracks? Broken spots, decay that shows?

I listen as Joel pours grace running off from his cracks to theirs.

I smile a "Whatever I can do. I WILL do" smile.

They need grace to show them help.

And it flows and brings smiles of hope.

We have to go. We thank everyone. People groping for themselves for want of wisdom. Sceptical of us. The NEW Pastor and his family. I decide to approach the wrinkled old man.

I stretch out my hand. He takes it, but his whole body leans away from it, as a sign that he is shaking my hand but wants no part of me. I get it. I press on.

I hear someone behind me, our church member tell me that she should introduce me to her Father.

Noooooo... not your Father. The one who you have told me about, everyone has told me about. The town knows about.

Who's daughter lost her arm in a meat grinder, who beat his son until he passed out. THIS man. Father?

They are grown, and he is an old man, but is still feared by everyone. And now me standing in front of him.

He looks at his cigarette as if I had a magnifying glass to it.

"I have been smoking since I was young ******** and I DON'T have lung cancer!!!******" he tells me sternly.

My stubbornness rises to the challenge.

"Well that's a good thing you don't."

He is taken back.

I am not running.

I smile.

He begins to tell me all of his injustices.

I am a great fan of people watching and as he speaks, I listen

and watch.

I cover every wrinkle, every scar, his completely toothless mouth, and see what the end of life without God will bring you to.

He tells me something.

I nod.

He swears.

again

and again.

I have heard it all before.

Joel comes to meet him.

He motions that we need to get to our next stop.

I thank the man for his time.

He is genuinely surprised.

I offer him my hand again.

He takes it.

I pat him on the arm as I walk by.

He is baffled.

I hug his daughter, still hurting, in her 40's. I hold on after she has let go.

Grace.

Grace from God through me, covering the rough spots.

I smile.

It will be alright. God has grace for everyone.

Even me.

I cannot fix. I cannot heal. I CAN show grace. Grace that is given to me, flowing over from my cracks to yours.

"Life days" happen.

Hurt. Frustration.

Hurriedness. Hope deffered.

But......

Grace is flowing like a river
From the mount of Calvary.
Look to Jesus Christ the Giver;
He from sin can set you free.

Grace is flowing like a river;
Millions there have been supplied.
Still it flows as fresh as ever
From the Savior's wounded side.

Heaven's fountain ever floweth;
All our need has been supplied.
Taste His love receive His mercy;
No one yet has been denied.

Grace is flowing like a river;
Millions there have been supplied.
Still it flows as fresh as ever
From the Savior's wounded side.

Through the blood of Christ forgiven,
Dry the tears from ev'ry face.
Through His cross an heir of Heaven,
Evermore a child of grace.

Grace is flowing like a river;
Millions there have been supplied.
Still it flows as fresh as ever
From the Savior's wounded side.

Come to Jesus, weary sinner;
Calv'ry's river flows today.
All who plunge beneath that fountain
Wash their guilty stains away.

Grace is flowing like a river;
Millions there have been supplied.
Still it flows as fresh as ever
From the Savior's wounded side.

He leadeth me. A blessed thought!

Ever had a boss you just could not please?

No matter what?

I have. I have been a waitress, a cashier, a house cleaner, a secretary, a business cleaner, a librarian, and even had a stint as a sandwich with meat and cheese hanging all whichway.

Yes friends, when you are paying your way through high school you are stupid enough to take a job dressed as a sub sandwich, and you will subject yourself to waving to passerby's hoping they will visit your franchise.

I digress.

I have had great employers........and not so great.

There are few things more frustrating than trying to please someone whom you cannot understand. I remember working as a business cleaner with some friends and never really feeling like I could do a good job. Oh I cleaned my heart out, but the boss just never seemed happy, like he intentionally had a corner somewhere that unbeknownced to me SHOULD have been cleaned though I never knew it's whereabouts.

Or there was that boss that changed my responsibilities so fast that I was left doing half a job for each task just to make it through the day with every task getting SOME time spent on it.

you get me?

And on the flip side, how much security there is in knowing just what you are supposed to do, how you are supposed to do it, or maybe even a liberty to do the job required how you deem best. Get in, get going, give it your all, close up, go home, feel good. Loved those jobs.

Lately I have been feeling like I have too many plates spinning. I know some are gonna crash. I know it's gonna be messy, but for the life of me I just keep running and spinning them from day to day never feeling like I have gotten enough done when I lay my head on my pillow.

And I am not just talkin' laundry here.

I'm talkin' every room in my house and heart.

This desire to check in with the one who gives me my marching orders began a month or so ago. And I wanted to simplify life again, some soul spring cleaning. I was on a Ladies weekend with two of the bestest sweetest godliest ladies you could ever set your heart on. They were talking, sharing their hearts and I was......... um, doing what I do best.


Crying. And I listened to them and yearned to know what God wanted ME to do. They knew what to do and were doing it, seeing God bless, coming through trials wonderfully. I wept to hear the Lord answer, give, bless, and just plain love them through one mess after another.

When my sobs could not be contained I quietly excused myself to the bathroom of the hotel we were staying at and cried out to my Lord and Master. In my heart the only thing I could ask Him was:

"Lord, what do you want me to do?"

And I was at His disposal. No agenda, no ready made plans on my part. Just one blank page with pen ready to fill up with His "To Do" list for my life.

And He answered.

Like He does.

When we seek Him with our whole heart.

And just like Him.

He is soft and kind.

He told me two words followed by a verse.

He said:

"Forgive yourself."

I know. I was shocked too. Forgive me? Not "Forgive so and so." "Forgive yourself." Friend the "goodness of God" does lead us to repentance. It leads us to the room with the cobwebs on it that hides our inner most secrets known only to us... and God. And in that one glorious moment there was nothing in that room that needed dusting or the garbage pile. God wanted me to forgive myself and lay down that burden of guilt that I carried all day every day everywhere I went. I brought it to birthday parties, family gatherings, shopping, everywhere. It.was.there. It humbled me, angered me, frustrated the day lights out of me, depressed me, and even made me anxious.

Guilt over silly things, bad things, horrible things, things that haven't even happened but I know they will things. The past was always present with me. And in that moment my mind flooded. I knew what He meant. I knew he had reached into my back pocket and exposed what I had hiding. And I was embarrassed. I said in my heart, "But I deserve to have to carry these. I should be required to bear this." He said:

"He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?" Micah 6:8.

I was silenced.

Do justly.

Love mercy.

Walk humbly with thy God.

It was as if you had Cinderella's cleaning list in your hand and he wiped every job off but three.

Do justly.

Love mercy.

Walk humbly with thy God.

Pilgrim from Pilgrim's Progress had to have felt like I did dropping all that baggage off in the hotel restroom.

My spirit soared. The God of the Universe met with me amidst dirty towels and running make up in a hotel restroom. He came to cross things off my "To Do" list. Better yet, He gave me a new one. And it's "Post It" sized.

Life simplified just for me.

Fast forward a month or two.

See me huffing up yet another hill on a five mile bike trail. And yes I am in first gear and way out of shape.

Ok picture me briefly and far off. FAR OFF.

Good.

I am sweaty, frustrated at the gnats that swarm me because I am so slow, the kids who keep getting too close to my bike making me yell at them in the perfect "Old Lady stay off my grass" voice, and even at my dear sweet husband who is soo drippingly sweet he would even make Cub Scout Leaders look like criminals. Sheesh doesn't this man ever have a bad day??

I digress.

I finally got off and walked. Yes I did. I walked up the dumb hill. I waved my hand to half swat the gnats and half tell the crew a mile or so ahead (ok slight exaggeration) that I was NOT in cardiac arrest and that they could go along their merry way without me for a while. (A loooong while) They refused.

I INSISTED.

They biked ahead. (GRIN)

So it was me and a beautiful woody opening with trees as high as I could see. It was just gorgeous and it was all mine for the taking in this moment of relief from frustration. Frustration with life. Life is hard folks. Add marriage and kids and more kids and more kids and..... well you get the idea. Add low income, high stress and get a sour spirit. Beautiful bike hike? Blah. Kids all smiles in shiny helmets and sweet spirits. Bleck.

So with up-turned nose I stood and He was there.

THE He.

And he grabbed my list of complaints out of my back pocket. He grabbed my list of things that MUST be accomplished that day, you know while we were wasting time on this bike hike.....

I raised my arms to the sky, forgot about the gnats and said out loud, "Lord, I am trying. Please help me. Just help me."

And he crossed my list out and wrote three things. Three things that are more important than any others. The only things that must be accomplished that day:

Do justly.

Love mercy.

Walk humbly with thy God.

I grinned a grin that showed I had been reproved. Again with Micah Lord? Ok.

OK.

And I shed some more tears alone in the woods. He bottled them up and gave me strength, renewed strength because I had waited upon Him. (Isaiah 40:31) And with that new strength I got on and biked ahead.

And when I wanted to pick a whole bundle of wildflowers from the Park.....the Lord said:

Do justly.

And I did what was right and snagged a small token to smell as I biked.

When one child could not find their shoes for the tenth time and waded in way past what they should have and came to me in a wet, muddy mess, God said:

Love mercy.

So I found their shoes and sat them on my lap.

And when Joel was obviously building a fire the WRONG way, the Lord of mercy reminded me to:

Walk humbly with thy God.

So I helped with a smile and without putting my two cents in.


Tomorrow is a new day. I am reminded that Proverbs 16:9 says, "A man's heart deviseth his way: but the LORD directeth his steps." I see where I need to be, but God knows where He needs me to go and patiently gets me there.

Goodnight friends!

In the multitude of my thoughts within me thy comforts delight my soul. Psalm 94:19

Hello all.

Yes, you four are worth me staying up wee hours of the morning to catch you up to speed with the Royalty clan.

A lot of soul searching goin' on lately. I think we ladies have times that are like that. It is almost like we are stuck in this cloud of thoughts that we must work through to proceed with the daily grind as we know it.

This is not a bad thing.

This is just a long thing.

I heard someone say once that all of your life's experiences change you as the years roll along.

I scrunched up my face, tilted my head to the side and wondered if I really had changed so much.

I didn't think I had.

Not with the birth of my children,

Not with the financial set backs,

Not with the hospital stays with my children,

Not with the third world country excursion,

Not with anything.

I could still laugh about the same old things,

Still liked the same favorite colors,

Still wanted to be the person I grew up loving and imitating their handwriting,

Still secretly loved poetry much more than I would ever confess,

Still loved making things with my hands,

Still wondered if I could ever measure up in just about every area you can imagine.


And lately the Lord has been prodding, pushing me to get out of where I have been, and made me look at where I have come from, and where He alone is taking me on this wonderfully sweet journey of life.

Months ago now in a phone conversation someone I love said something that sent me a crushing blow.

To understand the weight of this you must know that growing up I took a particular interest, love to be more direct, in the arts.

I was a Freshman in Senior plays, interviewed for the newspaper, on traveling drama teams, had the red carpet rolled out for me. I had dreams of acting in college until I realized it would go no further only to then transfer my energies to writing. Of course I knew I would have to take some low paying journalism job until my big break, but I was sure someone would find my banter fresh and new and use me for something great, somewhere.

In eighth grade someone else was waiting for me, with even greater dreams for me. He rescued me from a party that would have robbed me of my testimony and scared me for the rest of my life. He then prompted me to chose the road less traveled and gave me a new set of clothes for the journey.

I changed.

Teachers pleaded, scholarships looked promising, parents questioned, friends forsook me.

But I had changed.

I folded up my jeans, closed my yearbook and stepped out in faith with my new partner.

So much has happened since then.

This call, the words......... "could have done so much." Stung.

To be honest, the tears still come just typing it. I was mad, I was hurt, I questioned myself, my life, my decisions.

It has taken me months to heal from that wound that smarted. Oh how it smarted.

A horrid feeling of waste just swept over me for days. For months.

In a few weeks time I had been able to witness two souls heading to their true home. A course had been charted for them and they were nearing the finish line.

I used this time, watching them, holding their hand, listening to them breathe, to search my own soul. And I found such worth in my life. Not to many, but to the one who matters most.

I cannot tell you what healing this has been for me. I think I am still in the process of fully understanding what it means to be in the will of God.

To have purpose.

I think until I was challenged, I hadn't seen this life with my spiritual eyes for longer than I care to confess to.

I spoke to God, I poured my heart out to Him. I gave Him my plans, my dreams all over again. I wept going through each obstacle that life had thrown at me again in my memory. Each joy, each small victory, each defeat. All of these had drawn me to Him, a splash of color on this beautiful picture that God was creating of my life.

And after a long, long time I finally saw myself as beautiful.

This Mother's Day was the hardest for me I think. Navigating Motherhood is not easy. I have made such mistakes along the way,

but I am trying.

Joel used my life in his sermon Sunday morning. He, not knowing that my heart was searching through the past, brought up the very things I was pondering, and unrolled the canvas of my days, and the way I had chosen to go while even a teen.

My mouth just fell open. Here he was, vindicating me, almost just for my hearing alone.

I chose right.

I chose right.

My life is worthwhile, and friend so is yours.

Friend, rest in the wonderful thought that there is no "could have" with God.

at the end of my days it will not matter what this vapor has shown the world.

I have chosen the better part.

No, scratch that.

He has chosen me.

After all, what greater honor is there than that?

Just a thought.

Same time, Same place, New laughs

Tonight I did what I tell myself I WILL NOT DO.

I felt like Paul who says in Romans 7:15 "For that which I do I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I."

I just could not help myself.

Well yes I could I just didn't.

Kindov like ordering two McDoubles for y-o-u-r-s-e-l-f.

Yep. Perfect. Same feeling.

I blog surfed.

(Insert me making a BBBLLLLAAAAHHH face.)

So much out there. Big blogs, small blogs, fancy blogs, "I sell things blogs," 70,000 readers a DAY blogs, I am trying to become a budding author blogs, and my personal favorite, the, I am strange and love that people will come and read my bantor because I AM strange.

Not hatin', just sayin'.

And I read and coveted, and sighed and laughed and looked shocked, and even was moved by some. One 4 post spread about the Magic Kingdom seriously almost make me quit blogging all together. Wow. Yet another reason why we probably will never go there, or desire to. You cannot pray in schools, but you can take out a loan for some "Magical" experience where you spend three days in amusement overload, paying way too much for junk food and making your kids hug every single "Magical" stuffed something or other or smiling lady with huge hair. Still makes me shake my head. The adds tell you, "You will take some of the magic with you when you leave..." Yeah that and some pepto. Better hope that magic makes some payments for you on your credit card.

Ok, sorry.

See where blog surfing gets me? Every time. Every.time.

I do find some humor in all of the various thoughts people share. I think of them and I think of me and get a good chuckle.

I like the fact that dinner time is a potluck of thoughts that are just bubbling out of all of the kids. Joel barely says, "Amen" and here we go off into some explaination about something like whether the blood was cooked out of the meat. It will also be at this time that I can listen to the explaination, scold Anna for singing about blood, ask Nathan to stop picking his nose and remember that cookies are in the oven.

I like that Alayna can cry and Joel and I can volley over who should leave the bed and get up and get her, and we get crazier and crazier reasons each round and by the time we cannot even look at each other for fear of breaking out in laughter she falls back asleep and we just go on reading or doing whatever we were doing in the first place.

I like that I can promise to only read ONE chapter of "The Boxcar Children" and they KNOW that even I want to know what happens.....my curiosity gets the best of me and I read on....every time.

I like that we get spontaneous calls to pray for church members, family, friends and yes even uncles getting their cows taken away, and we pray. Right then.

I like that I always see a lady in a long skirt or dress and long hair pulled-up each time I go to Wal Mart. I like that God sends her to me and me to her to no doubt encourage each other.

I like that I can make Hamburger Helper and call it "Hamburger Help Yourself" and the kids roar with laughter.

I like that I can begin to say something, it get jumbled and one of my kids will pat me on the hand and say, "It's ok Mom, we know."

I like that I can wear the same apron everyday. EVERY DAY and not care.

I like the fact that it has seen many pies and cookies and that my kids see me every day in it. In my place.

I like that I can sneak into town for something and get two McDoubles for myself from the drive thru and eat them before I get home, wiping the katsup off my cheek as I greet the kids.

I like that I can pray any time of the day kneeling at my bedroom window at my little bench and feel like I am in the world's grandest cathedral.

I like that I can then have some liquid spilled on me from some place by someone WHILE I am praying.

I like that I can cry one whole afternoon about the fact that now that we have moved to the great state of NY, I will miss lilac season. Bemoaning to God how I have FOLLOWED HIM, I have come and the least He could do was to allow me my ONE delight in life.

I like how my husband can then tell me that we have our own bush. IN.OUR.YARD. That I had happened to miss in our moving here and the snow covering every inch of NY.

I like looking at my husband as if it was the very first time I had laid eyes on him. And smile a Cheshire grin.

I like finding one last box of pudding in the pantry, feeling like it is plum pudding at Christmas time and then whisking the daylights out of it with the only whisk I have. The 6 inch one that goes to my mixer.......and laughing.

I like asking my husband things while I am writing like, "How big is that whisk that goes to my mixer downstairs?" and he have no clue why I wanted to know.

I like not being able to silence the laughter when one of us accidentally says, "Can you cut the cheese?"

I like that I have a pillow that was sent to me from my dear friend all the way to Mongolia, now adorning my bed. I like that it makes her seem a little closer.

I like that I can serve Pop Tarts for breakfast and not feel guilty.

I like that I can hug a lady at church, hear her say, "Watch out, I'm grumpy" and say, "Oh good, I am too."

I like that I can read through this list and laugh at my own life.

Because it is my good bloggable life.

I like that someone else will laugh at it too.

The Ugly Beautiful

It is a weary end of the day here in Humphrey.


I am sitting in a comfy chair, thinking of all that has transpired in the last few days.


Just a little while ago we were in a Conference in WI when a call came that one of our church members had been in an accident and went to heaven. He was in his 60's and truthfully, I was not well acquainted with him. He usually came on Sunday mornings, sat in the back and was out before I had finished my nursery responsibilities. I did talk to him a few times only to notice that he was uneasy and uncomfortable doing so. So.... when I did see him, I would smile and thank him for coming, but never pressed him for information even regarding the simplest things, like the weather for instance.

It was Joel's first funeral. I think we all were nervous. It went well, he knew the Lord and surely was too busy enjoying his time with the Lord to even notice we stopped to place his body in the ground.

A few days later we got a call from the Rehab place where he frequented asking if we would hold a "Memorial Service" for him. What an opportunity this would be for us. A government institution and the gospel do not usually mix, and when they give occasion to, it is a matter of prayer.

So we went. We smiled, we met people and then it began to happen.

A man in almost high heel boots and 70's pants made his way to us. He announced to us that he was one of the "Soloists." Oh me. Remember at this juncture will you, that I am a terrible phony. I cannot hide anything, so this was getting hard for me. Deep down I thought, "Ok mister, YOU are the soloist? I am too and we shall see...." and even a little "Lord, help me not to laugh at this moment!"

He told us he was a friend of our deceased church member and how he took the news rather hard.

I am nodding and listening, trying not to look at the boots and pants individually let alone as an ensemble that any person should be legally allowed to wear.

We got to the meeting room where all of the friends of his were gathering that also happened to be their cafeteria that also happened to be dirty.

Very dirty. Again smiling, greeting, nodding, "Oh really?-ing".... doing the Pastor's Wifely duty.

I met another soloist. She was short and sweet and I liked her until she told us she was going to sing the Ave Maria.

Seriously?

I have not previously mentioned that this facility was for the Mentally/Emotionally challenged, and so at this announcement I thought, "Is she really meaning that or a little confused?"


She was a-meanin'-it. Full Italian, no subtitles, no music, you got it.

Now I have some semblance of a sense of humor, but this is beginning to get downright agitating. They should leave the "Memorial" thing to us professionals!

Person after person file in this already crowded room, I feel smothered. Anna puts her mouth on the table, I cringe. One lady in a large stocking cap takes it as her life's mission to make SURE everyone has a little program of the service, I wince. One man mumbles to me the same thing over and over, another lady to my right keeps asking me my name. In the middle of almost a mental breakdown, a lady rather elderly comes and asks me curtly if I want a cup of coffee. I fudge a smile and decline not too graciously. I mean, one only has so much graciousness.

The service begins. I am hot, nervous, trying to keep Nathan and Anna from touching the table too much, shaking hands too much, wanting Joel to hurry.... not wanting to tell the lady next to me my name for the hundredth time, and for goodness sakes, NO ONE needs another program, PLEASE sit down lady in the back!

Then it was as if I began looking through some else's eyes. We sang hymns. The sound of these voices, voices people in "normal" society have been taught to drowned out, began to reach the bottom of my sinful, wicked heart. The first soloist sang," When the Roll is Called up Yonder." We all sang along at the chorus, our voices swelling to fill the room. His voice was shaky, filled with emotion, it burned my heart. The second soloist stood and sang this Italian, difficult song with a soft whisper-like alto voice that made us all strain to hear each word. She had us all captivated by her unassuming way of trying to just be a help to those around her in this, their time of loss. The loss of their friend. Someone who, like them, understood being misunderstood.

Then each person who wanted to, stood and gave a testimony of this man. THIS MAN whom I was beginning to learn a lot more about through his death that I never knew in life.

The service begins, Joel is consoling and I feel my heart burning with shame. Will I never learn? Will I keep up this pride and try to slip out after everything is over?

No. No I won't.

Before I know it, it is MY turn to sing.

I slink out of my chair and feel as if every soul can see the blackness of my heart. Will they cringe at me like I them?

No. No they won't.

I meet eyes. They widen, brighten, and give me a glimpse into hearts yearning for real friendship. I sing and as I do I try to apologise with my eyes. Stanza after Stanza.

Did they see it? Get it?

They did.

I spent the rest of our time there hugging, helping serve coffee to people and look each one in the eye and smile. I touch an arm of a man who is beaten down. I am beaten down too, inside. I am trying to be maybe the only Jesus that this man will ever know. I get him his coffee, help him put the cream back, as he shakes.

Inside I cry, I want to stay and make it up to them.

I want to serve these people,

the Ugly Beautiful.

I hug more, smile more, serve more, and listen. Always there is listening.

And while I listen I am in all wonder at the change of events.

At the switch that has taken place. Those who were the Ugly are now the Beautiful.

Those who were pious and Beautiful are now the Ugly.

I went to the restroom to gather my thoughts and flooding emotions. The Holy Spirit met me and whispered, "the least of these....."

"you have done it unto me."

Look how I have treated you, Lord. He knows. He saw the change in me though. He prays for me, and nothing can ever separate me from His love for me.

Or separate them from His love for them.

We leave and a woman who was shy comes and envelopes me in a hug. She rushes off. She has been pacing, wanting to hug me and finally worked up enough courage. I am glad she did. It is I who should be shying away and not her. A man comes and gives Nathan a wad of money from "The group." He tells him in a whisper to give it to his dad. It is an offering from them all.

to us.

I left feeling so ugly, but so thankful that God got a hold of me before it was too late to shower them with His love.

Them.


The Ugly Beautiful.

New Post, New Me, New York

Hello my delectable fan base......of three.

I would sometimes come on here and my heart would go out to Oh, Meadville, and Cleveland, and South Bend and Tallinn and even Wilmington and every other sweet individual who would get a free moment on the computer, come and see me and........"AH still nothing from Deena."

And then I would think of all of the fantastic places to see and things to read, where individuals actually change their template and have their name signed in cursive and even know how to add links and coupons and such, and..... I would think, "It is better for them to have somewhere else to go!" :)

I have never been a "gottablogjustcuzIhavenothingtodo" kind of person. Now I know we live in a day and age when all of a sudden every single SAH Mom thinks she is the next thing to Dickens and is awaiting some magazine to call and either want to star them and their cutesy creations they just "thought up" or of course buy the rights to their photos which they just can.not.live.without. I am not one to feel like I better get with it or life is passing me by. I only get on here when I really want to connect with someone and most importantly brag on the Lord.

Tonight I am reeling from the past two weeks of abundant blessings from the Lord and excited that I can now get back on a blog after a long awaited updating process for the ole' compute.

God is so good. If you doubt that, close this site, get on your knees and thank God for 30 things. By that time you will realize you are blessed beyond reason.

Most of you have traveled with me from Ohio to New York, from two bedrooms to each child having their own bed, from business to a breath of fresh air, from people that I knew and knew me almost inside and out, to new faces needing a faithful friend and a zillion hugs. I still chuckle to think that I am a Pastor's wife. It makes me laugh out loud. Yep, right out loud. It reminds me that God has a sense of humor and of why He gave an overabundance of humor to me.

Have done some growing up these last few months here. And whenever you have growing you have the pains of getting out of the normal and into the new normal. One of my children whom will remain nameless unless I am bribed said to me the other day, "Mom, I think I have growing pains in my mouth, my jaw hurts." If I wasn't so quickly reminded of my own troubles with my own mouth, I would have laughed even harder than I allowed myself to.

One thing I have learned just recently is that God will bless me even when I do not feel like I deserve it. We find ourselves doing it. We act as if God's blessing is determined by our good behavior. Though we know that we know that we know we cannot reach Heaven's gates, gain access to glory by any of our own merit, we still live day by day as if God is waiting for that last good deed spotlessly preformed by us to allow Him to give us good gifts.

Can I get a "Amen?"....



An "Oh me?"


Recently as some of you may know, a man in our church saw fit to bless us in the way of furniture, and lots of it. New, beautiful bedroom furniture , and a couch and chairs for our living room that would even warrant Mary E's approval and liking. Goodness it might even make her covet them. I digress.....

In all of this whirlwind of blessing I really was sent reeling spiritually. I knew I wasn't warranting the bed we were given with the new mattress and box springs and all, but I was thankful....SO thankful. Overwhelmingly thankful.

Then the couch came and chairs and I thought that this man just had to have the wrong couple he wanted to bless...... then the chest of drawers and the mirror..... I almost didn't want to think of my own sinful heart for fear that God would remember and renig on all my beautiful Amish make oak wonderfulness.

Then it was the nightstands. I clapped my hands together as they were carried up stairs, half bewildered into almost craziness and half feeling like the windows of heaven really had opened up and poured us out a blessing.

And then in the stillness when the movers had gone, the kids were somewhere playing and Joel was straightening up God came and met with me.

He reminded me of Darlene Rose. A beautiful missionary bride who lost her husband in a prison camp just a few years after they were married, herself in a terrible camp, half starved, sick and in a cell praying for just one banana.

She reasoned with God as to persactly how He could manage to get her one. Hmmm, through that gate, by the hand of that person, and then she just plum gave up. She told Him, "God, it's okay. I know you cannot get me one and it is alright." and went on her daily grind.

But God was working, smiling at her brilliant plan. He already had a plan of His own choosing. It was from a very unique source and it was not one banana.


It was one hundred.


She should have been excited at the answer to prayer but she wasn't. Not at first anyway. See the goodness of God leads us all to repentance Romans says. She was sorry she doubted and in her pity for herself God came to her and said, "My child, don't you know that I desire to bless you exceeding abundantly above all that you ask or think?"

And she ate and enjoyed her Father's goodness.



Many, many many days I coveted, wished, hoped and it was deferred. So and so had a house, beds, rugs. And then I finally gave it up. "Lord, it's okay. I know that where we are you cannot get these things to us." Oh perhaps not out loud, but in my heart of hearts....you know, that heart that is so deceitful and wicked that we cannot even know it ourselves?

There I doubted him.

And when the movers left and God moved in my heart, His words, His WORD was just the same to me as it was to her in that cell that day.

"My child, don't you know that I desire to bless you exceeding abundantly above all that you could ask or think?"


And as my husband called the Salvation Army to carry our old couch and chairs away, the ones that we stuffed with our old Winter coats so you could sit on them.... I remembered how God is my Father and he wants to bless me and give me good gifts just as I want to bless my own children. I desire it, I love to, long to give them something that will bless them, encourage them, make them happier than they even imagined possible.

That is what God wants to do for you.

For me.

That is what God DID for me, and keeps on doing for me, and it truly is "the Lord's doing" and "marvelous in our eyes."