The Afternoon of Life

  Did I laugh? Did I love? Did I make a difference? Today I held the foster son of a dear friend…4 months of chubby, wrinkled thighs…a grin from ear to ear…the deepest voice I’ve ever heard in a boy that tiny.   His eyes twinkled as he checked out every movement in the room.   I fed him a bottle and rocked him to sleep…and then watched his foster mom load him up to take him to an aunt who had won temporary custody of the precious little guy.   It was gut-wrenching to see him go…and I’d spent less than two hours with him.   It takes an incredibly wonderful angel of a woman to care for someone else’s child…love them 100% (the only way she knows how to love)…and then let them go.   Every time I think I could foster, something happens that makes me second guess that decision.   She let her little guy go because she wanted to do what was best for him…for now. I came home and found myself thinking about how God let His Son go.   He didn’t let Jesus leave heaven because it w

  Today has been an odd day.   I think the adrenaline of an exciting week at VBS is wearing off and I find myself in that odd place between connection to reality and wanting to doze off from sheer exhaustion.   There were so many “highs” this week and it culminated with answered prayer this morning when I conducted my first SS class for 4 th -6 th graders.   I started praying in April that God would bring children to our church.   We had no SS classes for children except the occasional grandchild that came … and by occasional I believe there’s been a children’s SS class two or three times in almost five months!   So today thrilled my heart over and over and over again as children came in the door for SS and we made plans for how we’ll proceed in the coming SS year.   Did I laugh enough?   Oh, yes.   Joy, joy and more joy came shining through my smile and laugh this morning.   I especially enjoyed it when an older gentleman in my church commented to Dan, “If my hair lays flat and

Missions Diary Day 1                      June 10, 2013 I think this mission’s diary really should start somewhere around 1969…when I saw and heard my first “live” missionary speak.   I was in sixth grade, living in Cross City, Florida.   I don’t remember a lot about that day but I do remember that as the missionary shared her story of her work in Africa that I felt my heart race.   I remember telling my parents that evening, “I’d like to be a missionary someday.   But I don’t want to go to Africa.   That would be too scary.” It should include the summer of 1979 that was spent “on the mission field” of eastern Washington and Oregon as a summer missionary with the SBC.   It should include the summer of 1981 spent “on the mission field” of Long Island, New York.   It was the best and worst summer of my life…best because I learned to trust God completely…worst because I had to learn that lesson (weak smile).   It should include the names of every adult that has had inpu

  I’ve found myself pondering lately the abundance of “positive thinking” that’s been pouring onto my FB page.   It doesn’t take very long to discover that there’s an abundance of literature available on the subject.   But something about so much “goodness” and “positivity” has made my skin crawl and the hairs on my neck stand up.   Is it discernment?   Is it just being a party-pooper?   Why can’t I buy-in to what I would have called a “fad”…except it’s been around for a long time?   I’d like to share my personal thoughts about why I cannot and will not be joining the bandwagon of “speaking good” into my life all the time. My first reason for ignoring this phenomenon is that I look at my Savior Jesus and see that He did not spend every day speaking strength to His own life.   Of course, He was the Son of God…can’t get much more positive than that.   But He gave up EVERYTHING in His kingdom to come to our kingdom to show us how we could get to His kingdom…and He didn’t come sp

  In less than 5 hours I will have finished my 56 th January in my lifetime.   31 new days…744 hours…44640 minutes that I never had before and will never have again.   In the past I’ve often set goals…New Year’s resolutions…made plans.   But I’ve always tended to wait till the end of the year and then felt good and fluffy if I accomplished at least half of what I set out for. This year I’m setting the bar a little higher.   I’m not looking for perfection.   I’m not trying to be a superwoman.   But I do want to know that when I say I’m living an accomplished life that I’m really doing so.   I broke my year’s goals into monthly goals this year…thinking that “baby steps” are just plain easier than giant strides.   I remind myself that my day-to-day life stays busy these days because I’m blessed with a husband, children and grandchildren and a warm, dry house that all need my attention.   Dan and I have had some “discussions” this month.   I’d love to say they resulted in some

  In Matthew 18:3 in the English Standard Version we read:   “At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” 2 And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them 3 and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Children are humble beings for the most part.   There comes a point where they begin to understand that life is a competition, but until then, they can be persuaded to share their toys, to “pretend” with their friends, to believe in what adults cannot.   I’ve been blessed with healthy, wonderful, active grandchildren and I’ve found myself watching them a lot recently, trying to understand what it is about children that Jesus saw…and why we were instructed to “become like children” if we want to enter the kingdom of heaven.   Here are some of the lessons I’v

  I miss you, Mom.   I miss hearing you shuffle to the kitchen early in the morning to pour your cup of coffee before settling in to read your devotions.   I miss seeing your forehead creased as you think about the solution to a crossword puzzle.   I miss your authoritative spirit that could handle any given situation.   I miss the smell of Merle Norman makeup on your face.   I miss pinching the skin on the back of your hand and watching it stay in place.   I miss you reaching over to hold my hand, just for the feeling of connection it gave us in those final days.   I miss watching you rise to the occasion when your friends showed up and you didn’t really feel like visiting, but you felt you couldn’t turn them away either.   I miss knowing that you’re taking care of dad…feeding him nutritious meals to help with his health problems.   I miss hearing you complain about things that you had to pretend to be nice about.   I miss you nagging me while I drove you in the car.   I miss