Several years ago I discovered the tradition of the Jesse Tree, a tradition of using ornaments that represent the people, prophesies, and events leading up to the promised Savior. This has been life changing for me.
I am one of those people who struggle emotionally at Christmas. I stress over choosing gifts that I think others will like, I worry about finances, I become irritated as stores become crowded with holiday shoppers. I simply didn't enjoy Christmas for many, many years.
Thankfully, I discovered the Jesse Tree. The first year I created ornaments out of Shrinky Dinks to hang on a little wooden tree. I used a guide that I found online and each night we read the corresponding scripture and hung the ornament on our tree. It was simple but effective. I felt a weight being lifted off of me as Christmas approached and I found myself actually enjoying Christmas for the first time in years.
Each year our ornaments have been improved a little and we've used different reading plans, some with devotions to accompany the scriptures each day.
Last year I purchased The Greatest Gift by Ann Vonskamp. I have to say this is one of the best purchases I've ever made. This book is beautifully written and the daily devotions that go along with the scriptures helped me focus on the true meaning of Christmas, the promise of a Savior. I can honestly say that last year was the best Christmas I have had in years.
My circumstances didn't change. There was the ever present traffic that comes along on Black Friday and hangs around with us until the New Year, the stores were crowded with shoppers, I had a full schedule of events that surround Christmas, the indecision of holiday gifts still plagued me and yet, my heart was at peace. The things surrounding me weren't changed, I was. My heart was prepared for my Savior.
This year I decided to share my secret with others. I am hosting a Jesse Tree Ornament Swap. I started very late and haven't found the required number of participants but I have adapted the plan so that we can still complete the swap. This year I have 7 friends each making 8 copies of 3 different ornaments in the set, and I will be making the remaining 4 ornaments in the set.
I am very excited about this event. It's added one more thing to my already full plate but somehow it is already making life easier. I'm busier than ever but more intently focused on Christ. That is the magic of the Jesse Tree. Each day we are focused on Jesus and that makes all the difference in the world.
I hope you find a way to focus your heart more intently on Christ this holiday season. Don't forget to stop, step back, and make time to spend with The Lord during this busy time of year. I promise, you won't regret it.
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Friday, November 21, 2014
Friday, December 27, 2013
Fifty Cents a Day
Tonight as we drove to my parents house we were discussing many controversial topics in our society but had come around to discussing adoption and how so many people will take in many animals and worry and fret over the pet population without giving a second thought to the many children in need of adoption. As we arrive at my parents house and are getting out of the car Sweet G (who is adopted and is very aware of that fact) pipes up from the backseat, "Now I just don't believe in adoption but I'd give fifty cents a day so a hungry child could have food to eat." I think he was afraid we were in negotiations on whether we wanted to add to our family again. LOL He wants to make sure the kids get fed as long as they aren't sharing his mom and dad. I'm afraid he felt like his place as the baby in the family might be in jeopardy.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Climbing Out On the Crashing Waves
A little boy sits crying because he can't be in the sack race. Tears create streaks down his dirty little cheeks as the wash away the dust from a hot summer day. "Why can't I be in the race?" he sobs.
"Buddy, you just can't be in the race," his mother answers.
"But why can't I Momma? I can do it! Just watch me! I'll show you I can do it!"
"It's too hard. You just can't do it. You have to be able to jump to play that game."
"I CAN jump! Let me show you that I can," he pleads.
"I wish that you could but you just can't. You have CP. Your body just won't do that."
Through sobs he manages to say, "I wish CP didn't exist! I wish I hadn't been born with CP!"
I've dreaded hearing those words for over 10 years. I knew that someday I'd hear them. It was inevitable. The surprising part is that they haven't been said before. Most kids realize their limitations much younger but Sweet G is different. There is nothing average about my Sweet G. He looks at life through a different window than most of us. His spirit is strong and true. He is kind and good. Anything is possible in his eyes.
As a small baby his favorite song was Dream Big by Ryan Shupe and the Rubberband. I remember thinking how cool it was that he loved that song so much because with his disability he was going to need to be able to Dream Big. I began to think of the words as a prayer for him.
As he got a little older his favorite song changed to The Voice of Truth by Casting Crowns. That song gave me so much hope and peace and again I prayed those words as we sang them together.
For the most part we have Dreamed Big and listened to the Voice of Truth but every now and then I have forgotten to have big dreams and sometimes I've listened as the giant says, "He'll never win." But not Sweet G, that is, not until today. Today he realized that dreams aren't always enough and in his weakness he took his eyes off of Jesus, focused on the waves crashing all around him, and listened as the giant laughed and said, "Boy, you'll never win."
One thing I know is that although Sweet G had a moment of weakness tonight, tomorrow will be a different story. Tomorrow we will stop and listen to the sound of Jesus singing over G as He says, "Do not be afraid. This is for My glory," and out of all the voices calling out we will choose to listen and believe the Voice of Truth!
"Buddy, you just can't be in the race," his mother answers.
"But why can't I Momma? I can do it! Just watch me! I'll show you I can do it!"
"It's too hard. You just can't do it. You have to be able to jump to play that game."
"I CAN jump! Let me show you that I can," he pleads.
"I wish that you could but you just can't. You have CP. Your body just won't do that."
Through sobs he manages to say, "I wish CP didn't exist! I wish I hadn't been born with CP!"
I've dreaded hearing those words for over 10 years. I knew that someday I'd hear them. It was inevitable. The surprising part is that they haven't been said before. Most kids realize their limitations much younger but Sweet G is different. There is nothing average about my Sweet G. He looks at life through a different window than most of us. His spirit is strong and true. He is kind and good. Anything is possible in his eyes.
As a small baby his favorite song was Dream Big by Ryan Shupe and the Rubberband. I remember thinking how cool it was that he loved that song so much because with his disability he was going to need to be able to Dream Big. I began to think of the words as a prayer for him.
When you cry be sure to dry your eyes
'Cause better days are sure to come
And when you smile be sure to smile wide
Don't let them know that they have won
And when you walk, walk with pride
Don't show the hurt inside
Because the pain will soon be gone
And when you dream, dream big
As big as the ocean blue
'Cause when you dream it might come true
When you dream, dream big
When you laugh be sure to laugh out loud
'Cause it will carry all your cares away
And when you see, see the beauty all around and in yourself
And it'll help you feel okay
And when you pray, pray for strength
To help you carry on
When the troubles come your way
And when you dream, dream big
As big as the ocean blue
'Cause when you dream it might come true
When you dream, dream big
As he got a little older his favorite song changed to The Voice of Truth by Casting Crowns. That song gave me so much hope and peace and again I prayed those words as we sang them together.
Oh what I would do to have
The kind of faith it takes to climb out of this boat I'm in
Onto the crashing waves
To step out of my comfort zone
To the realm of the unknown where Jesus is
And He's holding out his hand
But the waves are calling out my name and they laugh at me
Reminding me of all the times I've tried before and failed
The waves they keep on telling me
Time and time again. 'Boy, you'll never win!'
"You'll never win"
But the voice of truth tells me a different story
And the voice of truth says "Do not be afraid!"
And the voice of truth says "This is for My glory"
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth
Oh what I would do to have
The kind of strength it takes to stand before a giant
With just a Sling and a stone
Surrounded by the sound of a thousand warriors
Shaking in their armor
Wishing they'd have had the strength to stand
But the giant's calling out my name and he laughs at me
Reminding me of all the times I've tried before and failed
The giant keeps on telling me
Time and time again "boy, you'll never win!
"You'll never win"
But the stone was just the right size
To put the giant on the ground
And the waves they don't seem so high
From on top of them looking down
I will soar with the wings of eagles
When I stop and listen to the sound of Jesus
Singing over me
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth
For the most part we have Dreamed Big and listened to the Voice of Truth but every now and then I have forgotten to have big dreams and sometimes I've listened as the giant says, "He'll never win." But not Sweet G, that is, not until today. Today he realized that dreams aren't always enough and in his weakness he took his eyes off of Jesus, focused on the waves crashing all around him, and listened as the giant laughed and said, "Boy, you'll never win."
One thing I know is that although Sweet G had a moment of weakness tonight, tomorrow will be a different story. Tomorrow we will stop and listen to the sound of Jesus singing over G as He says, "Do not be afraid. This is for My glory," and out of all the voices calling out we will choose to listen and believe the Voice of Truth!
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
He Came From a Long Line of Losers
A couple of years ago I started a new Christmas tradition for our family. I made small charm-like ornaments and a stick tree that serve as a Jesse Tree. It has become a nice addition to our nightly bedtime routine during the days leading up to Christmas. Each night we place that day's ornament on the Jesse Tree and read the scriptures that tell the Biblical story associated with the picture on the charm. It really is a wonderful way to see God's plan for our salvation through His Son, Jesus.
Tonight our story was from the book of Ruth. As I read the scriptures telling the story of Ruth and her mother-in-law Naomi I would elaborate on parts to help Sweet G better understand. When I read the part where Ruth was gleaning the fields of Boaz I began to explain that Ruth and Naomi were poor widows and that Ruth worked very hard to gather the wheat that was left or dropped in the field. I told Sweet G that Ruth was an ancestor of Jesus and that her family had worshipped false idols but she had chosen to follow Naomi and worship the one true God. At this point in my story Sweet G asked, "Is it sort of like a long line of losers?" After a short chuckle I began to regain my composure and the thought hit me that G wasn't really that far off. I reviewed the story of Abraham and Sarah, how Abraham lied and Sarah laughed when God promised a son would be born to them. Noah, although found righteous, at one time became drunk. Adam and Eve disobeyed God and hid from Him, then lied about their actions. I skipped ahead to Rahab the harlot and realized that Sweet G spoke the truth when he suggested that Jesus came from a long line of losers. It provided a great opportunity to share with G that God uses average people and loves us in spite of our poor choices.
I'll never hear that country song again without thinking of my sweet Savior. "He comes from a long line of losers. Half outlaws, half boozers." I'm so thankful that God can take someone who has a sinful past full of mistakes and regrets, someone whose family tree may have some questionable characters hanging in it and choose to love them and use them for His glory. Grace, grace. God's grace. Oh, how sweet His love is.
Tonight our story was from the book of Ruth. As I read the scriptures telling the story of Ruth and her mother-in-law Naomi I would elaborate on parts to help Sweet G better understand. When I read the part where Ruth was gleaning the fields of Boaz I began to explain that Ruth and Naomi were poor widows and that Ruth worked very hard to gather the wheat that was left or dropped in the field. I told Sweet G that Ruth was an ancestor of Jesus and that her family had worshipped false idols but she had chosen to follow Naomi and worship the one true God. At this point in my story Sweet G asked, "Is it sort of like a long line of losers?" After a short chuckle I began to regain my composure and the thought hit me that G wasn't really that far off. I reviewed the story of Abraham and Sarah, how Abraham lied and Sarah laughed when God promised a son would be born to them. Noah, although found righteous, at one time became drunk. Adam and Eve disobeyed God and hid from Him, then lied about their actions. I skipped ahead to Rahab the harlot and realized that Sweet G spoke the truth when he suggested that Jesus came from a long line of losers. It provided a great opportunity to share with G that God uses average people and loves us in spite of our poor choices.
I'll never hear that country song again without thinking of my sweet Savior. "He comes from a long line of losers. Half outlaws, half boozers." I'm so thankful that God can take someone who has a sinful past full of mistakes and regrets, someone whose family tree may have some questionable characters hanging in it and choose to love them and use them for His glory. Grace, grace. God's grace. Oh, how sweet His love is.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Two Steps Forward, Three Steps Back
Life is filled with ups and downs and twists and turns. I use to become very anxious about the changes in my life but as I grow older I find that I can see how God uses my circumstances to shape me into a better person. Today was one of the days of life that have the ability to leave you discouraged and depressed.
Wednesday is therapy day for G. He has all three therapies on Wednesdays so that gives me + - 3 hours to myself. I had planned on using the time today to get some housework done. We were about to eat lunch when we made the discovery. J turned the kitchen faucet on and nothing happened. We had no water whatsoever. I had not yet taken a shower and was going to be taking G to therapy in less than an hour.
After a few minutes of bewilderment my sweet precious husband who has way too much on his plate lately discovered that he has been riding around with our water bill and payment in his work bag. He made out the check in plenty of time but in all the chaos, that is our life, he forgot to deliver it. Our water had been cut off for non-payment.
At one time this kind of thing would have sent me crashing over the deep end but today it was simply a little inconvenience. It just wasn't important enough to get upset over. One phone call to the water department (payment and $50 late fee paid on the phone) and the matter was resolved. My husband was much more upset about it than I was. To me it is just a funny story to remember. If that is the worst thing that happens I think we will be okay.
I did find it amusing that this situation occurred the day after I announced that I was taking control of my life. The truth is we only possess a certain amount of control. Things happen. We make mistakes. Life is not perfect but that does not mean that we can't enjoy living it. You can't sweat the small stuff and you can't let it get you down. At times like that you have to find the humor, give a little chuckle, and move on.
Days like today make me realize how much I love my crazy, sometimes chaotic, sweet, sweet life.
Wednesday is therapy day for G. He has all three therapies on Wednesdays so that gives me + - 3 hours to myself. I had planned on using the time today to get some housework done. We were about to eat lunch when we made the discovery. J turned the kitchen faucet on and nothing happened. We had no water whatsoever. I had not yet taken a shower and was going to be taking G to therapy in less than an hour.
After a few minutes of bewilderment my sweet precious husband who has way too much on his plate lately discovered that he has been riding around with our water bill and payment in his work bag. He made out the check in plenty of time but in all the chaos, that is our life, he forgot to deliver it. Our water had been cut off for non-payment.
At one time this kind of thing would have sent me crashing over the deep end but today it was simply a little inconvenience. It just wasn't important enough to get upset over. One phone call to the water department (payment and $50 late fee paid on the phone) and the matter was resolved. My husband was much more upset about it than I was. To me it is just a funny story to remember. If that is the worst thing that happens I think we will be okay.
I did find it amusing that this situation occurred the day after I announced that I was taking control of my life. The truth is we only possess a certain amount of control. Things happen. We make mistakes. Life is not perfect but that does not mean that we can't enjoy living it. You can't sweat the small stuff and you can't let it get you down. At times like that you have to find the humor, give a little chuckle, and move on.
Days like today make me realize how much I love my crazy, sometimes chaotic, sweet, sweet life.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Standing at the Screen Door
My parents divorced before I was old enough to retain any memories of the time they were together. There is not one picture of me with both of my parents. Not one trace of evidence from the life we lived together. For that reason I find it impossible to imagine that we ever had the same last name or lived together as a family although we did for only a short time.
In my earliest memory I am standing at a screen door crying for my parents. From what I can remember I believe it must have been springtime which means I was less than two years old. My mother's sister is telling me that my Mom is at work and that my Daddy will be here soon to pick me up. That first memory is one of loss, abandonment, fear, and confusion. It explains a lot about who I am and how my personality was formed. I understand so many things about who I am and how that first memory held me prisoner without me realizing it.
I spent many years feeling like a victim. Social situations almost crippled me. I scrutinized every conversation and became my own worst enemy. Fear and shame were my constant companions until I slowly started seeing myself the way God sees me. Little by little I gained a new self image and stopped worrying about what others thought so much. Those feelings have not gone away but I have learned to control them instead of letting them control me.
Lately I've been feeling somewhat like that little girl; confused, afraid, alone, abandoned, unloved. I know that those feelings are real and justified but unlike that baby girl standing at the screen door I don't have to let those feelings define me or hold me prisoner. I have a new identity in Christ. He will never leave me or forsake me. He shelters me beneath His wings.
In my earliest memory I am standing at a screen door crying for my parents. From what I can remember I believe it must have been springtime which means I was less than two years old. My mother's sister is telling me that my Mom is at work and that my Daddy will be here soon to pick me up. That first memory is one of loss, abandonment, fear, and confusion. It explains a lot about who I am and how my personality was formed. I understand so many things about who I am and how that first memory held me prisoner without me realizing it.
I spent many years feeling like a victim. Social situations almost crippled me. I scrutinized every conversation and became my own worst enemy. Fear and shame were my constant companions until I slowly started seeing myself the way God sees me. Little by little I gained a new self image and stopped worrying about what others thought so much. Those feelings have not gone away but I have learned to control them instead of letting them control me.
Lately I've been feeling somewhat like that little girl; confused, afraid, alone, abandoned, unloved. I know that those feelings are real and justified but unlike that baby girl standing at the screen door I don't have to let those feelings define me or hold me prisoner. I have a new identity in Christ. He will never leave me or forsake me. He shelters me beneath His wings.
Psalm 17:8-9 (KJV)
8Keep me as the apple of the eye, hide me under the shadow of thy wings,
Monday, November 28, 2011
Christmas Tree
December 1984:
A young couple sit together in their tiny apartment discussing their decorating plans for their first Christmas as husband and wife. The ink on their marriage license is barely dry, having only been married for three months. They are both college students and their only source of income is from his part time work with his father and the generosity of their parents. Their bills are paid and they have plenty to eat but frivolous purchases aren't made. Desire to make every experience special urges them to purchase a small tree only two feet tall. A strand of lights and a box of cheap wooden ornaments accompany the small tree back to the couple's home. The young wife cuts a star from yellow construction paper and her husband fashions an angel from a paper plate. A decision can't be reached on the choice between the angel and the star so the couple makes one of many compromises as husband and wife. The star is glued onto the front of the angel before they are both placed on top of the tree.
December 1985:
The same young couple travel to a Christmas tree farm and choose a beautiful tree to place in their home for their second Christmas. The earthy scent of the tree fills their home as they place the same lights and wooden ornaments on their tree. A new ornament is added to commemorate this year spent together. The young woman strings popcorn and cranberries to add as a garland for their tree. Memories are being made and traditions are being formed.
December 1986:
The couple now live in their third home. It is a small brown house two blocks from the center of their small hometown. A beautiful artificial tree is purchased for their new home. Pretty ruffled curtains hang on the windows of their home. A new living room suite, television, washer and dryer, a beautiful oak dining set and refrigerator have been added to their possessions since their last Christmas. A new ornament is added to their tree to honor another year spent together.
December 1991:
This year two ornaments are added to the Christmas tree. One ornament for the couple and one for their baby's first Christmas. Each year they have added a new ornament to their tree. Popcorn and cranberries are strung by the young woman like many years before. This is a special Christmas because it is their first year as parents.
December 1994:
The couple built a new house this year. It is their first Christmas in the home they have dreamed of for so long. Two new ornaments are added to their tree.
December 2003:
A new baby graces the lives of the little family bringing with him new experiences and new ornaments to represent them.
December 2011:
Two trees grace the couple's home. They live in their fifth home. Their two sons have grown. The oldest is a sophomore in college and the youngest is eight years old. Three ornaments will be added to a tree that is already filled with 27 years worth of ornaments. One of the cheap wooden ornaments is hung on the tree along side many others that have been added over the years. There is a birds nest with a dove nestled in the branches of the tree. It was made by the woman when she was nine years old. Beside the nest hangs a beaded ornament made by the man when he was nine years old. Ornaments that represent babies first years, tee ball, a trip to Disneyworld, a new job, graduation, the first year of college. A lifetime of memories fill the tree.
I came across that first star angel when we were decorating our tree. I have kept it all these years. It brought a smile to my face as I remembered how it felt to be 18 years old, sitting in the floor of that tiny college apartment cutting that construction paper star to put on our bare tree. God has blessed me more than I deserve. That young girl could never have imagined how full our Christmas tree would be someday, filled with the ornaments that represent the memories we have made together. Our Christmas tree has been ever changing like our lives. Someday soon our oldest son will move out and begin his life as we did. He will carry all his ornaments with him when he goes and his first Christmas tree will be filled with memories of Christmas past.
A young couple sit together in their tiny apartment discussing their decorating plans for their first Christmas as husband and wife. The ink on their marriage license is barely dry, having only been married for three months. They are both college students and their only source of income is from his part time work with his father and the generosity of their parents. Their bills are paid and they have plenty to eat but frivolous purchases aren't made. Desire to make every experience special urges them to purchase a small tree only two feet tall. A strand of lights and a box of cheap wooden ornaments accompany the small tree back to the couple's home. The young wife cuts a star from yellow construction paper and her husband fashions an angel from a paper plate. A decision can't be reached on the choice between the angel and the star so the couple makes one of many compromises as husband and wife. The star is glued onto the front of the angel before they are both placed on top of the tree.
December 1985:
The same young couple travel to a Christmas tree farm and choose a beautiful tree to place in their home for their second Christmas. The earthy scent of the tree fills their home as they place the same lights and wooden ornaments on their tree. A new ornament is added to commemorate this year spent together. The young woman strings popcorn and cranberries to add as a garland for their tree. Memories are being made and traditions are being formed.
December 1986:
The couple now live in their third home. It is a small brown house two blocks from the center of their small hometown. A beautiful artificial tree is purchased for their new home. Pretty ruffled curtains hang on the windows of their home. A new living room suite, television, washer and dryer, a beautiful oak dining set and refrigerator have been added to their possessions since their last Christmas. A new ornament is added to their tree to honor another year spent together.
December 1991:
This year two ornaments are added to the Christmas tree. One ornament for the couple and one for their baby's first Christmas. Each year they have added a new ornament to their tree. Popcorn and cranberries are strung by the young woman like many years before. This is a special Christmas because it is their first year as parents.
December 1994:
The couple built a new house this year. It is their first Christmas in the home they have dreamed of for so long. Two new ornaments are added to their tree.
December 2003:
A new baby graces the lives of the little family bringing with him new experiences and new ornaments to represent them.
December 2011:
Two trees grace the couple's home. They live in their fifth home. Their two sons have grown. The oldest is a sophomore in college and the youngest is eight years old. Three ornaments will be added to a tree that is already filled with 27 years worth of ornaments. One of the cheap wooden ornaments is hung on the tree along side many others that have been added over the years. There is a birds nest with a dove nestled in the branches of the tree. It was made by the woman when she was nine years old. Beside the nest hangs a beaded ornament made by the man when he was nine years old. Ornaments that represent babies first years, tee ball, a trip to Disneyworld, a new job, graduation, the first year of college. A lifetime of memories fill the tree.
I came across that first star angel when we were decorating our tree. I have kept it all these years. It brought a smile to my face as I remembered how it felt to be 18 years old, sitting in the floor of that tiny college apartment cutting that construction paper star to put on our bare tree. God has blessed me more than I deserve. That young girl could never have imagined how full our Christmas tree would be someday, filled with the ornaments that represent the memories we have made together. Our Christmas tree has been ever changing like our lives. Someday soon our oldest son will move out and begin his life as we did. He will carry all his ornaments with him when he goes and his first Christmas tree will be filled with memories of Christmas past.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Thankfulness
As I started to write this post tonight I began to reflect on this past year. I found myself thinking of all the bad things this year has brought to my life and the many things I have lost. That could have been the beginning of my annual spiral into holiday depression but it wasn't. Before I was totally wallowing in self pity I thought of a verse from the Bible.
Immediately, God reminded me of all the blessings this year has been filled with. My baby had a successful surgery and has made great strides in therapy, my oldest is half way through his second year of college, my husband was given a steady paying part time job to supplement our income, our family is healthy, my Sweet G is making great progress in school, we have a home, plenty of food to eat, we had a pretty good little garden that is still producing food and enjoyment for me, I have had a million laughs at the things Sweet G has said to me, enjoyed morning snuggles and bedtime stories, had close to 52 "campouts" with Sweet G (T filled in for me on a couple of Friday nights), I celebrated the 27th anniversary of the day I married my best friend, made a few new friends, and made some more great memories with some old friends.
2011 has been bittersweet but then again isn't that a pretty good description of life? We wouldn't know the depth of our blessings without hardships to compare them to. I have learned a lot about myself this year. I also discovered the value that others place on me. I learned that blood isn't always thicker than water but the blood of Christ that covers my sin is binding. I am His and He is mine. Nothing can separate me from His love. I do have many things to be Thankful for! Happy Thanksgiving!
Philippians 4:8 (MSG)
8-9Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.
Immediately, God reminded me of all the blessings this year has been filled with. My baby had a successful surgery and has made great strides in therapy, my oldest is half way through his second year of college, my husband was given a steady paying part time job to supplement our income, our family is healthy, my Sweet G is making great progress in school, we have a home, plenty of food to eat, we had a pretty good little garden that is still producing food and enjoyment for me, I have had a million laughs at the things Sweet G has said to me, enjoyed morning snuggles and bedtime stories, had close to 52 "campouts" with Sweet G (T filled in for me on a couple of Friday nights), I celebrated the 27th anniversary of the day I married my best friend, made a few new friends, and made some more great memories with some old friends.
2011 has been bittersweet but then again isn't that a pretty good description of life? We wouldn't know the depth of our blessings without hardships to compare them to. I have learned a lot about myself this year. I also discovered the value that others place on me. I learned that blood isn't always thicker than water but the blood of Christ that covers my sin is binding. I am His and He is mine. Nothing can separate me from His love. I do have many things to be Thankful for! Happy Thanksgiving!
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Autumn Memories
Fall is here and it brought along with it memories of years gone by. Years of running and playing with T underneath trees adorned in beautiful jewel colored dresses. Soft breezes nipping at our noses causing them to turn red and become as cold as ice. The absence of summer's birdsongs make it almost too eerie to stay outside but we have hide and seek to keep us busy. I am content to be outside until darkness begins to close in around us because I have the king of the hill by my side.
The memory of another fall day comes into focus. I see a tow-haired boy about two years old running through a pile of leaves. His giggles rising above the sound of an approaching train. He is dressed in red overalls and a white turtle neck. His speech is filled with the sounds of y as he excitedly tells me to, "do it yike dis." Suddenly he is transformed into a cowboy and takes off "yiding a buwll" with his arm flailing wildly as his head nods back and forth bucking to the rhythm of the imaginary bull. Slowly the sun begins to set and my heart starts to break as we have to let this day end.
Memories of hayrides with fellow homeschoolers push themselves the the center of my attention. Bowls of warm spicy chili lend us their heat as they fill our stomachs. The sounds of children laughing float down to parent's ears as the adventurous children climb higher into the rafters of the barn over mounds of fresh bails of hay. Sweet songs and giggles dance into the night as a tractor pulls a wagon loaded with families nestled in sweet fresh hay. All too soon this day is over and reluctant children are shooed toward cars and home.
Six years ago we started hosting a Halloween party in our home. We have several special families that have come to our home year after year to celebrate fall with us. A traditional supper of chili and hot dogs is served before we all set out in my neighborhood for a fun night of trick-or-treating. There are special memories being made for adults as well as children. Each year is a little different as one by one our children grow too old to dress up and participate in the ritual of going from house to house gathering candy. This year our kids sat in the floor, sorted their candy, and began trading with each other. I sat and soaked in their energetic giggles and silly comments, knowing that there will never be another Halloween quite like this one.
The last memory comes into my mind in a rush. It is a cool fall evening after dark. Children begin to explore a haunted forest filled with witches and monsters and their screams fill the night. They play hide and seek until one by one parents arrive to retrieve them. This will be the last Halloween of their childhood. The next time Halloween will hold the same excitement will be years in the future when they take their own children trick or treating.
Life has a way of slipping by you if you're not careful. I find that it's the little spontaneous moments that keep returning to my mind. As I go through life I pray that I don't forget to stop and enjoy the simple pleasures a day can bring. They are always there waiting for us to seek them out, if only we will try. Ready or not, here I come!
The memory of another fall day comes into focus. I see a tow-haired boy about two years old running through a pile of leaves. His giggles rising above the sound of an approaching train. He is dressed in red overalls and a white turtle neck. His speech is filled with the sounds of y as he excitedly tells me to, "do it yike dis." Suddenly he is transformed into a cowboy and takes off "yiding a buwll" with his arm flailing wildly as his head nods back and forth bucking to the rhythm of the imaginary bull. Slowly the sun begins to set and my heart starts to break as we have to let this day end.
Memories of hayrides with fellow homeschoolers push themselves the the center of my attention. Bowls of warm spicy chili lend us their heat as they fill our stomachs. The sounds of children laughing float down to parent's ears as the adventurous children climb higher into the rafters of the barn over mounds of fresh bails of hay. Sweet songs and giggles dance into the night as a tractor pulls a wagon loaded with families nestled in sweet fresh hay. All too soon this day is over and reluctant children are shooed toward cars and home.
Six years ago we started hosting a Halloween party in our home. We have several special families that have come to our home year after year to celebrate fall with us. A traditional supper of chili and hot dogs is served before we all set out in my neighborhood for a fun night of trick-or-treating. There are special memories being made for adults as well as children. Each year is a little different as one by one our children grow too old to dress up and participate in the ritual of going from house to house gathering candy. This year our kids sat in the floor, sorted their candy, and began trading with each other. I sat and soaked in their energetic giggles and silly comments, knowing that there will never be another Halloween quite like this one.
The last memory comes into my mind in a rush. It is a cool fall evening after dark. Children begin to explore a haunted forest filled with witches and monsters and their screams fill the night. They play hide and seek until one by one parents arrive to retrieve them. This will be the last Halloween of their childhood. The next time Halloween will hold the same excitement will be years in the future when they take their own children trick or treating.
Life has a way of slipping by you if you're not careful. I find that it's the little spontaneous moments that keep returning to my mind. As I go through life I pray that I don't forget to stop and enjoy the simple pleasures a day can bring. They are always there waiting for us to seek them out, if only we will try. Ready or not, here I come!
Monday, October 3, 2011
Love You Forever
Sweet G and listened to Robert Munsch read his very popular children's book, Love You Forever this morning while doing school. It is a tearjerking book about a mother's love for her son. Every night after she is sure he is sound asleep she crawls into his room, picks him up, begins to rock back and forth as she sings,
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always.
As long as I'm living,
My baby you'll be.
She does this when he is a baby, a toddler, when he becomes a little boy, a teenager, and finally drives across town, climbs into his window and rocks him after he has become a man. I won't tell you the rest in case you haven't read it. After finishing the book I had G compare and contrast the boy in the book to himself.
The similarities G came up with were that they had both been babies, they both grew, they both have a Mommy that loves them, and they both have lullabies.
Their differences were that the boy moved away and left his mom but G said, "I'm going to take you with me when I move because I don't want to have to say goodbye. I will let you and Daddy sleep in the grown-up bed and I will sleep on the couch." Just when I least expect it he says something that melts my heart. I was reminded of his innocence by that statement. Joey, Trey, and I are the most important people in his world. It isn't even a possibility in his mind that he will ever desire freedom from Mom and Dad.
The past few days he has had a stuffed up head and runny nose so I slept with him three nights in a row. Last night he really didn't need me but he kept saying, "Momma, I am still noxious. I don't think I should sleep by myself when I am noxious because I don't want to wake Daddy up." How could I resist that considerate little boy? After all, he was just looking out for his Dad. I'm sure it had nothing to do with watching a clip on Momma's IPad. ;o)
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always.
As long as I'm living,
My baby you'll be.
She does this when he is a baby, a toddler, when he becomes a little boy, a teenager, and finally drives across town, climbs into his window and rocks him after he has become a man. I won't tell you the rest in case you haven't read it. After finishing the book I had G compare and contrast the boy in the book to himself.
The similarities G came up with were that they had both been babies, they both grew, they both have a Mommy that loves them, and they both have lullabies.
Their differences were that the boy moved away and left his mom but G said, "I'm going to take you with me when I move because I don't want to have to say goodbye. I will let you and Daddy sleep in the grown-up bed and I will sleep on the couch." Just when I least expect it he says something that melts my heart. I was reminded of his innocence by that statement. Joey, Trey, and I are the most important people in his world. It isn't even a possibility in his mind that he will ever desire freedom from Mom and Dad.
The past few days he has had a stuffed up head and runny nose so I slept with him three nights in a row. Last night he really didn't need me but he kept saying, "Momma, I am still noxious. I don't think I should sleep by myself when I am noxious because I don't want to wake Daddy up." How could I resist that considerate little boy? After all, he was just looking out for his Dad. I'm sure it had nothing to do with watching a clip on Momma's IPad. ;o)
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
SPARKS
Parenting a special needs child is a very different experience than parenting a "typical" developing child. There are pros and I suppose there are also cons for each. Being a special needs parent has given me more time with my child. He is content to sit and talk to me because his disability has prevented him from achieving independence. If there is a con side to that it would be that I also lost my independence. Free time is something that I am not often afforded. My hobbies have become things of the past. Days of painting and cross-stitching are far behind me. I do manage to fit a book or two into my schedule now and then and have recently taken up gardening after an eight year sabbatical.
I recently realized that our family needs to be in church on Wednesday nights. For years we were involved with the AWANA program in some form or another but stopped serving and attending on Wednesdays due to overload. I was in school full time, my husband works lots of hours, and Sweet G absolutely hated going to AWANA club so we called a time out that has lasted way too long.
After hearing that our men's ministry was going to do a Bible study on the new "Courageous" movie coming out in October, I felt lead to encourage my husband to take the opportunity to get involved and take some time for himself. That was three weeks ago.
While hubby is in his Bible study Sweet G and I go to Sparks. The first week G was in his walker so we opted to not attend game time because I feared the walk would be to much for G. Last week G had a headache so we left early. This week, however, we put G in his chair and went to game time. I wasn't sure how he'd like it since his disability makes playing the games very challenging but we tried it anyway.
Tonight was kickball night and the game leaders were unsure how to handle the situation. A friend of mine asked if G could roll the ball to the other kids and I said, "Sure, he can roll a ball." Sweet G was so excited when I rolled him to the pitchers position he giggled, "I'm just like the Braves, I'm gonna play ball."
It was planned for G to pitch for both teams. Problem is we forgot to include G in the decision. When the teams started to switch places G said, "Come on Momma, now I'm going to kick that ball." Not knowing how we were going to accomplish that task, yet not daring to discourage his I can do anything attitude we wheeled up to the plate. I tried to convince him to let me swing his chair and hit the ball but he said, "No, Momma, I'm going to kick it." So, I moved his feet plates out of the way and helped him to relax his excited legs enough to bend them. The ball was rolled and he kicked the ball (with a little help from Momma).
I am not nearly as young as I once was and why God chose to give me a special needs child later in life I don't know but I can tell you that my knees don't spring up the way they once did. In my slip on sandals and creaky knees I managed to get up and run to first base with my G. The pitcher caught the ball and threw it at us hitting G's chair in the side but we just kept on running!
At one point a little boy who doesn't know G asked, "What happened to you?" G replied in a tone that reflected his impatience, "I have CP!" It was quite comical to me but made me realize that practicing answering people's questions might be something to work on. We forget that people don't always know about disability and some ask what's wrong with G. It is easy for us to think, "Duh, you don't know what AFOs are? What's wrong with you?"
G's favorite part of the night came when a little girl kicked the ball and hit me in the leg. He just thought it was hilarious. The best thing is that my little boy likes SPARKS, loved game time, and is excited about going each week." Oh, I almost forgot that he volunteered me to make cupcakes for the entire club next week! He wanted to know what other food his Momma could cook and bring! Little stinker! I know what I'll be doing next Wednesday while he's in therapy, baking cupcakes and putting on my tennis shoes! I'm not running those bases in my slip-ons again!
I recently realized that our family needs to be in church on Wednesday nights. For years we were involved with the AWANA program in some form or another but stopped serving and attending on Wednesdays due to overload. I was in school full time, my husband works lots of hours, and Sweet G absolutely hated going to AWANA club so we called a time out that has lasted way too long.
After hearing that our men's ministry was going to do a Bible study on the new "Courageous" movie coming out in October, I felt lead to encourage my husband to take the opportunity to get involved and take some time for himself. That was three weeks ago.
While hubby is in his Bible study Sweet G and I go to Sparks. The first week G was in his walker so we opted to not attend game time because I feared the walk would be to much for G. Last week G had a headache so we left early. This week, however, we put G in his chair and went to game time. I wasn't sure how he'd like it since his disability makes playing the games very challenging but we tried it anyway.
Tonight was kickball night and the game leaders were unsure how to handle the situation. A friend of mine asked if G could roll the ball to the other kids and I said, "Sure, he can roll a ball." Sweet G was so excited when I rolled him to the pitchers position he giggled, "I'm just like the Braves, I'm gonna play ball."
It was planned for G to pitch for both teams. Problem is we forgot to include G in the decision. When the teams started to switch places G said, "Come on Momma, now I'm going to kick that ball." Not knowing how we were going to accomplish that task, yet not daring to discourage his I can do anything attitude we wheeled up to the plate. I tried to convince him to let me swing his chair and hit the ball but he said, "No, Momma, I'm going to kick it." So, I moved his feet plates out of the way and helped him to relax his excited legs enough to bend them. The ball was rolled and he kicked the ball (with a little help from Momma).
I am not nearly as young as I once was and why God chose to give me a special needs child later in life I don't know but I can tell you that my knees don't spring up the way they once did. In my slip on sandals and creaky knees I managed to get up and run to first base with my G. The pitcher caught the ball and threw it at us hitting G's chair in the side but we just kept on running!
At one point a little boy who doesn't know G asked, "What happened to you?" G replied in a tone that reflected his impatience, "I have CP!" It was quite comical to me but made me realize that practicing answering people's questions might be something to work on. We forget that people don't always know about disability and some ask what's wrong with G. It is easy for us to think, "Duh, you don't know what AFOs are? What's wrong with you?"
G's favorite part of the night came when a little girl kicked the ball and hit me in the leg. He just thought it was hilarious. The best thing is that my little boy likes SPARKS, loved game time, and is excited about going each week." Oh, I almost forgot that he volunteered me to make cupcakes for the entire club next week! He wanted to know what other food his Momma could cook and bring! Little stinker! I know what I'll be doing next Wednesday while he's in therapy, baking cupcakes and putting on my tennis shoes! I'm not running those bases in my slip-ons again!
Saturday, June 25, 2011
The Day God Sent Me an Angel
There was nothing different about this day than any other. It started out an ordinary Tuesday that ended extraordinarily. My son and I completed a day of homeschooling and in the late afternoon I sat down and began to apply my make-up. I smeared creamy white grease paint around my mouth and over each of my eyes, setting it with bright white powder. Taking a brush in hand I began to create cheeks. A blue pencil outlined my eyes, followed by blue mascara, and ruby red lips. A tiny blue dot delicately placed under my lower lip honor the clowns who created me. Lastly I glue a small red and yellow flower to the tip of my nose. Donning a polka dotted dress and ruffled bloomers, I placed my orange curly wig on my head. The transformation is complete, I disappeared as Scribbles came to life.
Ready for work, I hopped in the car and headed out on my thirty minute commute to work. I never did get entirely used to driving a car as Scribbles. There were always people pulling up beside me and waving wildly, which always seemed to catch me off guard. I often wondered what was wrong with people who honked at me and acted as if they were my long lost best friend, that is until I remembered I was in clown mode. Believe me it is easy to forget how you are dressed.
Work was pretty much the same every week. There were lots of families that were there faithfully every Tuesday and there were always a few new faces too. This night was no different from any other Tuesday until B walked into the restaurant and handed me a card with the picture of an angel inside. I was being given a priceless gift by strangers-their child would be mine.
After a brief visit to see him in the local hospital we headed home. I don't remember clearly what happened that night but I am pretty sure that it involved searching the Internet for baby names and their meanings. Our lives had just been radically changed and we weren't prepared in the least.
Have you ever unexpectantly received a pet? Do you remember the stress and excitement you felt as you tried to pick the perfect name for it? Imagine receiving a baby that same way. Think about walking out your front door and finding a baby with a note that reads, "A gift from God-love and enjoy him." That's pretty much how I felt. Shocked, amazed, overwhelmed, overjoyed.
I knew that this precious baby had to be given the perfect name. It was imperative that his name have deep meaning. A perfect name for a perfect gift. I found a name I liked that's meaning is strong man of God and I gave him a middle name that means gift of God. His name suits him perfectly. He was sent by God in a miraculous way. I sometimes describe it as him falling out of the sky because that is almost how it feels. It's like a big white stork flew him down from Heaven and laid him in my arms. It was a magical experience that I did nothing to deserve but I sure am glad God chose me to be the mother of that little angel.
Ready for work, I hopped in the car and headed out on my thirty minute commute to work. I never did get entirely used to driving a car as Scribbles. There were always people pulling up beside me and waving wildly, which always seemed to catch me off guard. I often wondered what was wrong with people who honked at me and acted as if they were my long lost best friend, that is until I remembered I was in clown mode. Believe me it is easy to forget how you are dressed.
Work was pretty much the same every week. There were lots of families that were there faithfully every Tuesday and there were always a few new faces too. This night was no different from any other Tuesday until B walked into the restaurant and handed me a card with the picture of an angel inside. I was being given a priceless gift by strangers-their child would be mine.
After a brief visit to see him in the local hospital we headed home. I don't remember clearly what happened that night but I am pretty sure that it involved searching the Internet for baby names and their meanings. Our lives had just been radically changed and we weren't prepared in the least.
Have you ever unexpectantly received a pet? Do you remember the stress and excitement you felt as you tried to pick the perfect name for it? Imagine receiving a baby that same way. Think about walking out your front door and finding a baby with a note that reads, "A gift from God-love and enjoy him." That's pretty much how I felt. Shocked, amazed, overwhelmed, overjoyed.
I knew that this precious baby had to be given the perfect name. It was imperative that his name have deep meaning. A perfect name for a perfect gift. I found a name I liked that's meaning is strong man of God and I gave him a middle name that means gift of God. His name suits him perfectly. He was sent by God in a miraculous way. I sometimes describe it as him falling out of the sky because that is almost how it feels. It's like a big white stork flew him down from Heaven and laid him in my arms. It was a magical experience that I did nothing to deserve but I sure am glad God chose me to be the mother of that little angel.
The Day God Sent Me an Angel
There was nothing different about this day than any other. It started out an ordinary Tuesday that ended extraordinarily. My son and I completed a day of homeschooling and in the late afternoon I sat down and began to apply my make-up. I smeared creamy white grease paint around my mouth and over each of my eyes, setting it with bright white powder. Taking a brush in hand I began to create cheeks. A blue pencil outlined my eyes, followed by blue mascara, and ruby red lips. A tiny blue dot delicately placed under my lower lip honor the clowns who created me. Lastly I glue a small red and yellow flower to the tip of my nose. Donning a polka dotted dress and ruffled bloomers, I placed my orange curly wig on my head. The transformation is complete, I disappeared as Scribbles came to life.
Ready for work, I hopped in the car and headed out on my thirty minute commute to work. I never did get entirely used to driving a car as Scribbles. There were always people pulling up beside me and waving wildly, which always seemed to catch me off guard. I often wondered what was wrong with people who honked at me and acted as if they were my long lost best friend, that is until I remembered I was in clown mode. Believe me it is easy to forget how you are dressed.
Work was pretty much the same every week. There were lots of families that were there faithfully every Tuesday and there were always a few new faces too. This night was no different from any other Tuesday until B walked into the restaurant and handed me a card with the picture of an angel inside. I was being given a priceless gift by strangers-their child would be mine.
After a brief visit to see him in the local hospital we headed home. I don't remember clearly what happened that night but I am pretty sure that it involved searching the Internet for baby names and their meanings. Our lives had just been radically changed and we weren't prepared in the least.
Have you ever unexpectantly received a pet? Do you remember the stress and excitement you felt as you tried to pick the perfect name for it? Imagine receiving a baby that same way. Think about walking out your front door and finding a baby with a note that reads, "A gift from God-love and enjoy him." That's pretty much how I felt. Shocked, amazed, overwhelmed, overjoyed.
I knew that this precious baby had to be given the perfect name. It was imperative that his name have deep meaning. A perfect name for a perfect gift. I found a name I liked that's meaning is strong man of God and I gave him a middle name that means gift of God. His name suits him perfectly. He was sent by God in a miraculous way. I sometimes describe it as him falling out of the sky because that is almost how it feels. It's like a big white stork flew him down from Heaven and laid him in my arms. It was a magical experience that I did nothing to deserve but I sure am glad God chose me to be the mother of that little angel.
Ready for work, I hopped in the car and headed out on my thirty minute commute to work. I never did get entirely used to driving a car as Scribbles. There were always people pulling up beside me and waving wildly, which always seemed to catch me off guard. I often wondered what was wrong with people who honked at me and acted as if they were my long lost best friend, that is until I remembered I was in clown mode. Believe me it is easy to forget how you are dressed.
Work was pretty much the same every week. There were lots of families that were there faithfully every Tuesday and there were always a few new faces too. This night was no different from any other Tuesday until B walked into the restaurant and handed me a card with the picture of an angel inside. I was being given a priceless gift by strangers-their child would be mine.
After a brief visit to see him in the local hospital we headed home. I don't remember clearly what happened that night but I am pretty sure that it involved searching the Internet for baby names and their meanings. Our lives had just been radically changed and we weren't prepared in the least.
Have you ever unexpectantly received a pet? Do you remember the stress and excitement you felt as you tried to pick the perfect name for it? Imagine receiving a baby that same way. Think about walking out your front door and finding a baby with a note that reads, "A gift from God-love and enjoy him." That's pretty much how I felt. Shocked, amazed, overwhelmed, overjoyed.
I knew that this precious baby had to be given the perfect name. It was imperative that his name have deep meaning. A perfect name for a perfect gift. I found a name I liked that's meaning is strong man of God and I gave him a middle name that means gift of God. His name suits him perfectly. He was sent by God in a miraculous way. I sometimes describe it as him falling out of the sky because that is almost how it feels. It's like a big white stork flew him down from Heaven and laid him in my arms. It was a magical experience that I did nothing to deserve but I sure am glad God chose me to be the mother of that little angel.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Triathalon
Recently Sweet G participated in a triathalon for kids that is held annually in or hometown. It was a very tiring but wonderful experience for us all. Typically the kids do everything independently but they have a special heat for children with disabilities and they are allowed any assistance necessary. For Sweet G that included someone to swim with him; someone to transfer him dripping wet into his wheelchair; someone to dry him and put his race shirt, socks, AFOs, and shoes on his still damp body; someone to wheel him through a crowd of cheering spectators; someone to put him onto his trike, and put his helment on; someone to walk alongside him and steer the trike as he hand pedaled; someone to carry his walker to a designated spot on the running course; someone to transfer him from the trike back into the wheelchair; someone to run while pushing him; someone to help him transfer out of his chair and into his walker for the last few yards of the run; and someone to cheer him on when he crossed the finish line.
For G there were several someones. A therapist swam with him, his Dad picked him up out of the pool, his brother along with his Dad and I dried him and dressed him, his Dad pushed him through the screaming fans as his brother and I followed, Dad put him on the trike, we all took turns helping him guide the trike, I carried the walker to the designated spot, Dad transferred him to his chair, his brother loaded the trike in the car, his physical therapist pushed him through the run and transferred him to his walker so he could finish the race independently, and we were all there (along with many others) cheering as a proud little boy crossed the finish line. His biggest concerns during the race were if his brother captured him "drowning" (face going underwater) on video and trying to find out what kind of snacks Ms. Beth had waiting at the finish line. That boy is a corker.
When it was all over and we were driving away he said, "Well, I guess I won that one." I suppose he forgot being passed by a little girl on the bike portion and the girl going around him two yards short of the finish line! Everyone in his heat received medals which is probably why he thinks he won and afterall it is appropriate since they are all champions.
For G there were several someones. A therapist swam with him, his Dad picked him up out of the pool, his brother along with his Dad and I dried him and dressed him, his Dad pushed him through the screaming fans as his brother and I followed, Dad put him on the trike, we all took turns helping him guide the trike, I carried the walker to the designated spot, Dad transferred him to his chair, his brother loaded the trike in the car, his physical therapist pushed him through the run and transferred him to his walker so he could finish the race independently, and we were all there (along with many others) cheering as a proud little boy crossed the finish line. His biggest concerns during the race were if his brother captured him "drowning" (face going underwater) on video and trying to find out what kind of snacks Ms. Beth had waiting at the finish line. That boy is a corker.
When it was all over and we were driving away he said, "Well, I guess I won that one." I suppose he forgot being passed by a little girl on the bike portion and the girl going around him two yards short of the finish line! Everyone in his heat received medals which is probably why he thinks he won and afterall it is appropriate since they are all champions.
Triathalon
Recently Sweet G participated in a triathalon for kids that is held annually in or hometown. It was a very tiring but wonderful experience for us all. Typically the kids do everything independently but they have a special heat for children with disabilities and they are allowed any assistance necessary. For Sweet G that included someone to swim with him; someone to transfer him dripping wet into his wheelchair; someone to dry him and put his race shirt, socks, AFOs, and shoes on his still damp body; someone to wheel him through a crowd of cheering spectators; someone to put him onto his trike, and put his helment on; someone to walk alongside him and steer the trike as he hand pedaled; someone to carry his walker to a designated spot on the running course; someone to transfer him from the trike back into the wheelchair; someone to run while pushing him; someone to help him transfer out of his chair and into his walker for the last few yards of the run; and someone to cheer him on when he crossed the finish line.
For G there were several someones. A therapist swam with him, his Dad picked him up out of the pool, his brother along with his Dad and I dried him and dressed him, his Dad pushed him through the screaming fans as his brother and I followed, Dad put him on the trike, we all took turns helping him guide the trike, I carried the walker to the designated spot, Dad transferred him to his chair, his brother loaded the trike in the car, his physical therapist pushed him through the run and transferred him to his walker so he could finish the race independently, and we were all there (along with many others) cheering as a proud little boy crossed the finish line. His biggest concerns during the race were if his brother captured him "drowning" (face going underwater) on video and trying to find out what kind of snacks Ms. Beth had waiting at the finish line. That boy is a corker.
When it was all over and we were driving away he said, "Well, I guess I won that one." I suppose he forgot being passed by a little girl on the bike portion and the girl going around him two yards short of the finish line! Everyone in his heat received medals which is probably why he thinks he won and afterall it is appropriate since they are all champions.
For G there were several someones. A therapist swam with him, his Dad picked him up out of the pool, his brother along with his Dad and I dried him and dressed him, his Dad pushed him through the screaming fans as his brother and I followed, Dad put him on the trike, we all took turns helping him guide the trike, I carried the walker to the designated spot, Dad transferred him to his chair, his brother loaded the trike in the car, his physical therapist pushed him through the run and transferred him to his walker so he could finish the race independently, and we were all there (along with many others) cheering as a proud little boy crossed the finish line. His biggest concerns during the race were if his brother captured him "drowning" (face going underwater) on video and trying to find out what kind of snacks Ms. Beth had waiting at the finish line. That boy is a corker.
When it was all over and we were driving away he said, "Well, I guess I won that one." I suppose he forgot being passed by a little girl on the bike portion and the girl going around him two yards short of the finish line! Everyone in his heat received medals which is probably why he thinks he won and afterall it is appropriate since they are all champions.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
The Haircut
Last night I gave my husband a haircut. He likes to keep his hair pretty short and typically asks me to cut it several times before we are able to get around to cutting it. We had just finished a few projects around the house and since I had the vacuum hose out I decided to offer to cut his hair. He quickly took me up on the offer. He went into to wash his hair before I cut it in order to get rid of a bad case hat hair caused from wearing a baseball cap all day.
I wanted to give him the total salon experience so I followed him into the bathroom and asked if I could help him wash his hair. He knelt in the floor and held his head over the bathtub as I used the sprayer to wet and wash his hair. I was so happy to be able to give him a haircut without him having to ask for weeks until I found time to cut it.
We went into the living room where a wooden chair and the clippers were waiting. I started cutting with a shorter guard than I typically use because he likes his hair shorter than I like it. I was going for all the great wife bonus points. The clippers glided smoothly across his head as I cut the sides and the back. I was going for a high and tight like the haircuts he got when we were first married and he was in the reserves and ROTC.
A smile crept across my face as I cut. I knew that this act of kindness as simple as it was meant so much to my precious husband. After finishing up the back and sides it was time to change guards to do the top. I looked into the case and quickly spotted the guard marked 3 and snapped it onto the clippers. With one smooth stroke I ran the clippers across the top of his head. Something didn't look right. I let out an audible gasp as I quickly jerked the clippers around and saw that the guard I had used did have a 3 on it but was followed by mm. In the center of the guard was the number 1. I had used the next to smallest guard on the top of his head. It was shorter on top than it was on the sides.
My heart sunk! I felt panic and humiliation rushing in on me like a flood. Joey immediately began to comfort me. He said, "You finally cut it the way I like it. It really feels great already. I am happy so don't be upset."
I almost cried but his continual praise and encouragement helped me overcome the tragedy and when I looked into his eyes I could only laugh and apologize. I have learned over the years that mishaps turn out to be the best memories so I am learning to see the humor in things as they happen instead of beating myself up over my mistakes.
I want you to understand that my laughter was not a sign that I didn't care about what I had just done to my sweet husband. I still feel bad about it. I explained to him that I laughed because I could cut one of his ears off accidentally and he would say, "I am so glad you did that. I have always wanted to have only one ear. I really think it looks good, don't you?"
He really would, he's just that sweet. I know, it's sickening how he always tries to protect me but I truly am thankful. I love that man more every second that I live.
I thought it was strange that our oldest son didn't acknowledge his dad's extreme haircut when he came home. I figured that he had and that Joey was just telling me he didn't to save my feelings. This afternoon I asked T if he noticed his dad's hair and he smiled a sweet smile and said, "I was told not to say anything, he sent me a text last night while I was at work telling me what happened and warning me to keep silent."
I really did marry prince charming. He is my best friend, my biggest fan, and my most devoted defender. He did manage to curb any remarks from Trey but even he can't silence Sweet G. I kept hearing this little voice ringing through the house, "Daddy, you're bald. You've got a bald head." It was always followed by whispers and sushes. Well, it may be short but at least it will grow back. I sure am sorry honey.
I wanted to give him the total salon experience so I followed him into the bathroom and asked if I could help him wash his hair. He knelt in the floor and held his head over the bathtub as I used the sprayer to wet and wash his hair. I was so happy to be able to give him a haircut without him having to ask for weeks until I found time to cut it.
We went into the living room where a wooden chair and the clippers were waiting. I started cutting with a shorter guard than I typically use because he likes his hair shorter than I like it. I was going for all the great wife bonus points. The clippers glided smoothly across his head as I cut the sides and the back. I was going for a high and tight like the haircuts he got when we were first married and he was in the reserves and ROTC.
A smile crept across my face as I cut. I knew that this act of kindness as simple as it was meant so much to my precious husband. After finishing up the back and sides it was time to change guards to do the top. I looked into the case and quickly spotted the guard marked 3 and snapped it onto the clippers. With one smooth stroke I ran the clippers across the top of his head. Something didn't look right. I let out an audible gasp as I quickly jerked the clippers around and saw that the guard I had used did have a 3 on it but was followed by mm. In the center of the guard was the number 1. I had used the next to smallest guard on the top of his head. It was shorter on top than it was on the sides.
My heart sunk! I felt panic and humiliation rushing in on me like a flood. Joey immediately began to comfort me. He said, "You finally cut it the way I like it. It really feels great already. I am happy so don't be upset."
I almost cried but his continual praise and encouragement helped me overcome the tragedy and when I looked into his eyes I could only laugh and apologize. I have learned over the years that mishaps turn out to be the best memories so I am learning to see the humor in things as they happen instead of beating myself up over my mistakes.
I want you to understand that my laughter was not a sign that I didn't care about what I had just done to my sweet husband. I still feel bad about it. I explained to him that I laughed because I could cut one of his ears off accidentally and he would say, "I am so glad you did that. I have always wanted to have only one ear. I really think it looks good, don't you?"
He really would, he's just that sweet. I know, it's sickening how he always tries to protect me but I truly am thankful. I love that man more every second that I live.
I thought it was strange that our oldest son didn't acknowledge his dad's extreme haircut when he came home. I figured that he had and that Joey was just telling me he didn't to save my feelings. This afternoon I asked T if he noticed his dad's hair and he smiled a sweet smile and said, "I was told not to say anything, he sent me a text last night while I was at work telling me what happened and warning me to keep silent."
I really did marry prince charming. He is my best friend, my biggest fan, and my most devoted defender. He did manage to curb any remarks from Trey but even he can't silence Sweet G. I kept hearing this little voice ringing through the house, "Daddy, you're bald. You've got a bald head." It was always followed by whispers and sushes. Well, it may be short but at least it will grow back. I sure am sorry honey.
The Haircut
Last night I gave my husband a haircut. He likes to keep his hair pretty short and typically asks me to cut it several times before we are able to get around to cutting it. We had just finished a few projects around the house and since I had the vacuum hose out I decided to offer to cut his hair. He quickly took me up on the offer. He went into to wash his hair before I cut it in order to get rid of a bad case hat hair caused from wearing a baseball cap all day.
I wanted to give him the total salon experience so I followed him into the bathroom and asked if I could help him wash his hair. He knelt in the floor and held his head over the bathtub as I used the sprayer to wet and wash his hair. I was so happy to be able to give him a haircut without him having to ask for weeks until I found time to cut it.
We went into the living room where a wooden chair and the clippers were waiting. I started cutting with a shorter guard than I typically use because he likes his hair shorter than I like it. I was going for all the great wife bonus points. The clippers glided smoothly across his head as I cut the sides and the back. I was going for a high and tight like the haircuts he got when we were first married and he was in the reserves and ROTC.
A smile crept across my face as I cut. I knew that this act of kindness as simple as it was meant so much to my precious husband. After finishing up the back and sides it was time to change guards to do the top. I looked into the case and quickly spotted the guard marked 3 and snapped it onto the clippers. With one smooth stroke I ran the clippers across the top of his head. Something didn't look right. I let out an audible gasp as I quickly jerked the clippers around and saw that the guard I had used did have a 3 on it but was followed by mm. In the center of the guard was the number 1. I had used the next to smallest guard on the top of his head. It was shorter on top than it was on the sides.
My heart sunk! I felt panic and humiliation rushing in on me like a flood. Joey immediately began to comfort me. He said, "You finally cut it the way I like it. It really feels great already. I am happy so don't be upset."
I almost cried but his continual praise and encouragement helped me overcome the tragedy and when I looked into his eyes I could only laugh and apologize. I have learned over the years that mishaps turn out to be the best memories so I am learning to see the humor in things as they happen instead of beating myself up over my mistakes.
I want you to understand that my laughter was not a sign that I didn't care about what I had just done to my sweet husband. I still feel bad about it. I explained to him that I laughed because I could cut one of his ears off accidentally and he would say, "I am so glad you did that. I have always wanted to have only one ear. I really think it looks good, don't you?"
He really would, he's just that sweet. I know, it's sickening how he always tries to protect me but I truly am thankful. I love that man more every second that I live.
I thought it was strange that our oldest son didn't acknowledge his dad's extreme haircut when he came home. I figured that he had and that Joey was just telling me he didn't to save my feelings. This afternoon I asked T if he noticed his dad's hair and he smiled a sweet smile and said, "I was told not to say anything, he sent me a text last night while I was at work telling me what happened and warning me to keep silent."
I really did marry prince charming. He is my best friend, my biggest fan, and my most devoted defender. He did manage to curb any remarks from Trey but even he can't silence Sweet G. I kept hearing this little voice ringing through the house, "Daddy, you're bald. You've got a bald head." It was always followed by whispers and sushes. Well, it may be short but at least it will grow back. I sure am sorry honey.
I wanted to give him the total salon experience so I followed him into the bathroom and asked if I could help him wash his hair. He knelt in the floor and held his head over the bathtub as I used the sprayer to wet and wash his hair. I was so happy to be able to give him a haircut without him having to ask for weeks until I found time to cut it.
We went into the living room where a wooden chair and the clippers were waiting. I started cutting with a shorter guard than I typically use because he likes his hair shorter than I like it. I was going for all the great wife bonus points. The clippers glided smoothly across his head as I cut the sides and the back. I was going for a high and tight like the haircuts he got when we were first married and he was in the reserves and ROTC.
A smile crept across my face as I cut. I knew that this act of kindness as simple as it was meant so much to my precious husband. After finishing up the back and sides it was time to change guards to do the top. I looked into the case and quickly spotted the guard marked 3 and snapped it onto the clippers. With one smooth stroke I ran the clippers across the top of his head. Something didn't look right. I let out an audible gasp as I quickly jerked the clippers around and saw that the guard I had used did have a 3 on it but was followed by mm. In the center of the guard was the number 1. I had used the next to smallest guard on the top of his head. It was shorter on top than it was on the sides.
My heart sunk! I felt panic and humiliation rushing in on me like a flood. Joey immediately began to comfort me. He said, "You finally cut it the way I like it. It really feels great already. I am happy so don't be upset."
I almost cried but his continual praise and encouragement helped me overcome the tragedy and when I looked into his eyes I could only laugh and apologize. I have learned over the years that mishaps turn out to be the best memories so I am learning to see the humor in things as they happen instead of beating myself up over my mistakes.
I want you to understand that my laughter was not a sign that I didn't care about what I had just done to my sweet husband. I still feel bad about it. I explained to him that I laughed because I could cut one of his ears off accidentally and he would say, "I am so glad you did that. I have always wanted to have only one ear. I really think it looks good, don't you?"
He really would, he's just that sweet. I know, it's sickening how he always tries to protect me but I truly am thankful. I love that man more every second that I live.
I thought it was strange that our oldest son didn't acknowledge his dad's extreme haircut when he came home. I figured that he had and that Joey was just telling me he didn't to save my feelings. This afternoon I asked T if he noticed his dad's hair and he smiled a sweet smile and said, "I was told not to say anything, he sent me a text last night while I was at work telling me what happened and warning me to keep silent."
I really did marry prince charming. He is my best friend, my biggest fan, and my most devoted defender. He did manage to curb any remarks from Trey but even he can't silence Sweet G. I kept hearing this little voice ringing through the house, "Daddy, you're bald. You've got a bald head." It was always followed by whispers and sushes. Well, it may be short but at least it will grow back. I sure am sorry honey.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Karaoke King
One thing I love about my Sweet G is his gregarious personality. He is not the least bit shy in front of a crowd, in fact that is usually when he is his boldest which scares me to death. I just never know what is going to come out of that cute little boy because most eight year olds haven't mastered the social skills expected when speaking in front of a group and Sweet G is at the top of his game when he has a captive audience. In fact, he has been performing for his therapists, his fellow patients, and their parents for years now. He loves to be cheered and is not shy about telling you he expects it.
Tonight we made plans to meet some great friends at a local Mexican restaurant that has Karaoke on Saturday nights. The evening started out pretty much like many other times we have taken G there but everything changed the minute our friend D sang his first song. Sweet G went wild! He started requesting songs for D to sing for him. G eventually asked D's daughter E to sing "Look It Up" with him. This is when the panic started rising in me. They took the stage and someone handed G a microphone. My heart was pounding because we all know that one of two things happens when you give a kid a microphone; they either freeze up and won't make a sound or they cut loose and totally embarrass their parents. The song started and all I heard was E as she sang the first few bars of the song. Then slowly G began to sing some of the words. His eyes met mine as he sang his favorite line in the song, "The word is easy, look it up, And you'll see a picture of that piece of trash Ridin' 'round in your pickup truck". A huge grin covered his face and I knew he was hooked and that I was headed for some good stories and some wonderful memories.
A little later in the night D and his daughter E went up to sing a duet. Before we knew what was happening G unlocked the brakes on his chair and headed for the stage as fast as he could roll. He stopped, looked back and said, "Daddy, help me get up there cause I'm gonna sing with D." G didn't ask if he could join the group. He just rolled himself right up beside them and the man running the Karaoke handed G a microphone. They were singing "Back to December" by Taylor Swift. It was amazing. Sweet G sang almost every word. He sang on key and even put in the oooo's that D and E left out. I was so proud of my little boy. He sang all those words from memory.
We have been told in the past by some experts that G has an IQ score that is well below what we know is possible. Anyone would know that the score he was given is absurd if they had a single conversation with him, but we are just irrational parents that can't see their child's limitations. He is a very intelligent and talented little boy. The problem that the psychologists have is that they can't understand what doesn't fit into the little box of what they think is normal.
Sweet G is not normal. He is not ordinary. When God created G he took something ordinary and gave it a little extra. G is extraordinary, out of the box, bigger than life, moonbeams and sunshine, with a lot of glitter on top. Oh, how I love that boy! My shining star came wheeling back to our table glowing with pride as everyone in the room cheered for him. If you ever need something to smile about just come see G sing Karaoke. I think he plans on making regular appearances from now on because I overheard him telling the man who owns the Karaoke equipment to get the song "Raymond" so he can sing it the next time he comes. ;0)
Tonight we made plans to meet some great friends at a local Mexican restaurant that has Karaoke on Saturday nights. The evening started out pretty much like many other times we have taken G there but everything changed the minute our friend D sang his first song. Sweet G went wild! He started requesting songs for D to sing for him. G eventually asked D's daughter E to sing "Look It Up" with him. This is when the panic started rising in me. They took the stage and someone handed G a microphone. My heart was pounding because we all know that one of two things happens when you give a kid a microphone; they either freeze up and won't make a sound or they cut loose and totally embarrass their parents. The song started and all I heard was E as she sang the first few bars of the song. Then slowly G began to sing some of the words. His eyes met mine as he sang his favorite line in the song, "The word is easy, look it up, And you'll see a picture of that piece of trash Ridin' 'round in your pickup truck". A huge grin covered his face and I knew he was hooked and that I was headed for some good stories and some wonderful memories.
A little later in the night D and his daughter E went up to sing a duet. Before we knew what was happening G unlocked the brakes on his chair and headed for the stage as fast as he could roll. He stopped, looked back and said, "Daddy, help me get up there cause I'm gonna sing with D." G didn't ask if he could join the group. He just rolled himself right up beside them and the man running the Karaoke handed G a microphone. They were singing "Back to December" by Taylor Swift. It was amazing. Sweet G sang almost every word. He sang on key and even put in the oooo's that D and E left out. I was so proud of my little boy. He sang all those words from memory.
We have been told in the past by some experts that G has an IQ score that is well below what we know is possible. Anyone would know that the score he was given is absurd if they had a single conversation with him, but we are just irrational parents that can't see their child's limitations. He is a very intelligent and talented little boy. The problem that the psychologists have is that they can't understand what doesn't fit into the little box of what they think is normal.
Sweet G is not normal. He is not ordinary. When God created G he took something ordinary and gave it a little extra. G is extraordinary, out of the box, bigger than life, moonbeams and sunshine, with a lot of glitter on top. Oh, how I love that boy! My shining star came wheeling back to our table glowing with pride as everyone in the room cheered for him. If you ever need something to smile about just come see G sing Karaoke. I think he plans on making regular appearances from now on because I overheard him telling the man who owns the Karaoke equipment to get the song "Raymond" so he can sing it the next time he comes. ;0)
Karaoke King
One thing I love about my Sweet G is his gregarious personality. He is not the least bit shy in front of a crowd, in fact that is usually when he is his boldest which scares me to death. I just never know what is going to come out of that cute little boy because most eight year olds haven't mastered the social skills expected when speaking in front of a group and Sweet G is at the top of his game when he has a captive audience. In fact, he has been performing for his therapists, his fellow patients, and their parents for years now. He loves to be cheered and is not shy about telling you he expects it.
Tonight we made plans to meet some great friends at a local Mexican restaurant that has Karaoke on Saturday nights. The evening started out pretty much like many other times we have taken G there but everything changed the minute our friend D sang his first song. Sweet G went wild! He started requesting songs for D to sing for him. G eventually asked D's daughter E to sing "Look It Up" with him. This is when the panic started rising in me. They took the stage and someone handed G a microphone. My heart was pounding because we all know that one of two things happens when you give a kid a microphone; they either freeze up and won't make a sound or they cut loose and totally embarrass their parents. The song started and all I heard was E as she sang the first few bars of the song. Then slowly G began to sing some of the words. His eyes met mine as he sang his favorite line in the song, "The word is easy, look it up, And you'll see a picture of that piece of trash Ridin' 'round in your pickup truck". A huge grin covered his face and I knew he was hooked and that I was headed for some good stories and some wonderful memories.
A little later in the night D and his daughter E went up to sing a duet. Before we knew what was happening G unlocked the brakes on his chair and headed for the stage as fast as he could roll. He stopped, looked back and said, "Daddy, help me get up there cause I'm gonna sing with D." G didn't ask if he could join the group. He just rolled himself right up beside them and the man running the Karaoke handed G a microphone. They were singing "Back to December" by Taylor Swift. It was amazing. Sweet G sang almost every word. He sang on key and even put in the oooo's that D and E left out. I was so proud of my little boy. He sang all those words from memory.
We have been told in the past by some experts that G has an IQ score that is well below what we know is possible. Anyone would know that the score he was given is absurd if they had a single conversation with him, but we are just irrational parents that can't see their child's limitations. He is a very intelligent and talented little boy. The problem that the psychologists have is that they can't understand what doesn't fit into the little box of what they think is normal.
Sweet G is not normal. He is not ordinary. When God created G he took something ordinary and gave it a little extra. G is extraordinary, out of the box, bigger than life, moonbeams and sunshine, with a lot of glitter on top. Oh, how I love that boy! My shining star came wheeling back to our table glowing with pride as everyone in the room cheered for him. If you ever need something to smile about just come see G sing Karaoke. I think he plans on making regular appearances from now on because I overheard him telling the man who owns the Karaoke equipment to get the song "Raymond" so he can sing it the next time he comes. ;0)
Tonight we made plans to meet some great friends at a local Mexican restaurant that has Karaoke on Saturday nights. The evening started out pretty much like many other times we have taken G there but everything changed the minute our friend D sang his first song. Sweet G went wild! He started requesting songs for D to sing for him. G eventually asked D's daughter E to sing "Look It Up" with him. This is when the panic started rising in me. They took the stage and someone handed G a microphone. My heart was pounding because we all know that one of two things happens when you give a kid a microphone; they either freeze up and won't make a sound or they cut loose and totally embarrass their parents. The song started and all I heard was E as she sang the first few bars of the song. Then slowly G began to sing some of the words. His eyes met mine as he sang his favorite line in the song, "The word is easy, look it up, And you'll see a picture of that piece of trash Ridin' 'round in your pickup truck". A huge grin covered his face and I knew he was hooked and that I was headed for some good stories and some wonderful memories.
A little later in the night D and his daughter E went up to sing a duet. Before we knew what was happening G unlocked the brakes on his chair and headed for the stage as fast as he could roll. He stopped, looked back and said, "Daddy, help me get up there cause I'm gonna sing with D." G didn't ask if he could join the group. He just rolled himself right up beside them and the man running the Karaoke handed G a microphone. They were singing "Back to December" by Taylor Swift. It was amazing. Sweet G sang almost every word. He sang on key and even put in the oooo's that D and E left out. I was so proud of my little boy. He sang all those words from memory.
We have been told in the past by some experts that G has an IQ score that is well below what we know is possible. Anyone would know that the score he was given is absurd if they had a single conversation with him, but we are just irrational parents that can't see their child's limitations. He is a very intelligent and talented little boy. The problem that the psychologists have is that they can't understand what doesn't fit into the little box of what they think is normal.
Sweet G is not normal. He is not ordinary. When God created G he took something ordinary and gave it a little extra. G is extraordinary, out of the box, bigger than life, moonbeams and sunshine, with a lot of glitter on top. Oh, how I love that boy! My shining star came wheeling back to our table glowing with pride as everyone in the room cheered for him. If you ever need something to smile about just come see G sing Karaoke. I think he plans on making regular appearances from now on because I overheard him telling the man who owns the Karaoke equipment to get the song "Raymond" so he can sing it the next time he comes. ;0)
Sunday, March 27, 2011
I Hear His Drum
I am not a sinless person. There has only been one perfect sinless person and His own people crucified Him. He was blameless. He not only loved; He is love. Yet, He was accused of things He didn't do, His words were twisted into things He didn't say, He was beaten, forsaken, betrayed, misunderstood, left to carry His burdens alone in His darkest and scariest hour. His best friend denied knowing Him three times in one night after just telling Him that he would never betray Him. He prayed and cried alone in a darkened garden because His closest friends were too tired to stay awake to watch and pray with Him. He was so anguished that his sweat became as blood yet the ones who loved Him the most couldn't see how much He needed them that night.
I do not believe that people are basically good at heart as I have heard people say. That my friend is not a fib, but as a three year old little girl once told me, "that's a lie." I am sorry if that offends you but it is merely the truth. God's Word tells us that all have sinned. There is not one who is good. We are born in sin, it is who we are to the utter core. Lost, wretched sinners. Selfish, lustful, hateful people trying desperately to justify our actions.
I am a detailed person, an information freak, a person who hears about a strange new disease and immediately writes it down so I can research it as soon as I can find a computer. I have to see it for myself so I am able to process it and make up my own mind.
I am a doubter. I can relate to Jesus' disciple Thomas. I feel like Thomas got a bum rap. He was just the kind of person who wanted to see it for himself. If I see Him, hear His voice, and touch His nail scarred hands, then will I believe. That is me. Not about Jesus but about almost everything else. I don't want to take your word for it, I don't need the opinions of anyone in deciding whether something is true or not. I am an educated woman and am capable of looking at the evidence and making up my own mind on a matter. I will go to the source for the information I need and not take the word of others when there is evidence available for me to look at and decide for myself. I guess that rubs people the wrong way. I am sorry if you can't understand that I will not blindly follow the popular path.
I march to the beat of a different drummer and will rise when the sound as that drum turns into the blast of a trumpet when my Jesus returns. I am His, and He is mine. I count it all joy when trials come to me. I know He is perfecting me, allowing me to be broken apart so He can mold me closer into His image.
I do not believe that people are basically good at heart as I have heard people say. That my friend is not a fib, but as a three year old little girl once told me, "that's a lie." I am sorry if that offends you but it is merely the truth. God's Word tells us that all have sinned. There is not one who is good. We are born in sin, it is who we are to the utter core. Lost, wretched sinners. Selfish, lustful, hateful people trying desperately to justify our actions.
I am a detailed person, an information freak, a person who hears about a strange new disease and immediately writes it down so I can research it as soon as I can find a computer. I have to see it for myself so I am able to process it and make up my own mind.
I am a doubter. I can relate to Jesus' disciple Thomas. I feel like Thomas got a bum rap. He was just the kind of person who wanted to see it for himself. If I see Him, hear His voice, and touch His nail scarred hands, then will I believe. That is me. Not about Jesus but about almost everything else. I don't want to take your word for it, I don't need the opinions of anyone in deciding whether something is true or not. I am an educated woman and am capable of looking at the evidence and making up my own mind on a matter. I will go to the source for the information I need and not take the word of others when there is evidence available for me to look at and decide for myself. I guess that rubs people the wrong way. I am sorry if you can't understand that I will not blindly follow the popular path.
I march to the beat of a different drummer and will rise when the sound as that drum turns into the blast of a trumpet when my Jesus returns. I am His, and He is mine. I count it all joy when trials come to me. I know He is perfecting me, allowing me to be broken apart so He can mold me closer into His image.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)