Friday's Fave Five

Joining Living to Tell the Story: Friday's Fave Five

I'm working backwards - from today back to Monday.

Finding Friday's Fave Five through my blogger friend Lisa Notes.  Lisa has one of those blogs that I envy.  The kind that has a post each and every day.  The kind that has encouraging posts every day - even if she's having a not-so-good-day.  Oh so honest.  Oh so thoughtful.  Oh so encouraging.

Planning a surprise for the parents of my drama homeschooling students.   Shhhh . . . 

Stopping by on the way to church at a ditch and watching Izzy turn it into a beautiful photo.  She is enjoying my camera more than I am.  She's better with it than I am. 

My berries -

Her berries -

See.  Told 'ya.

Supper with the families of Gregg's Bible study group and laughing so hard - at myself - that I cried.  Yes, during my short subbing office time Monday I did delete the telephone numbers of every single church member.  Can't thank you enough, honey, for getting me out of that one. 

Earning some extra money and need I explain that one?

In This Moment I Know Two Things . . .

The cupcakes were all lined up.  Beautiful. 

I didn't count the hours but a whole day went by with us all working on cupcakes.  The liners all wrapped and little pink ribbons stopped from fraying and touched with small pearls.

Donated and dear to our hearts.

There are only a dozen left.  Almost finished.

And I am tired.  And his imagination runs as lively as it did in the morning hours.

He has an old lens and is sprinkling tautar sace on the top of the icing.  He doesn't even know what tarter sauce is -  but his play often stretches the realm of my understanding.

Or is it just sometimes better to ignore and hope what I think might happen won't happen?

And then it happens.

Lens falls onto cupcake and crushes a pale pink snow of icing.

And while rising to my feet screaming No, Max, look what you have done I am knowing that I am not handling this well already.

But isn't it always in the first seconds before thinking has begun that we react and react badly?

Little hands holding heavy lens and mind not old enough yet to think ahead to what might happen.

Shelby worked hard on those, we all worked hard.  Can't you just stay away?  spills from my lips.

I take the steps to the cupcake and pick it up knowing it can be fixed.  Icing can be scraped off and replaced.

And behind me stands my son.

I turn and see a face in tears.  Wet sorrow falling into a mouth opened with no sound coming out.

And he thinks cupcake is more important than son.

And at this moment I know.

In this moment I know two things.  He will remember this forever or he won't remember it at all.

And as the first sounds of regret leave his mouth I gather him in my arms to be sure he knows cupcake is not more important.

If this moment is remembered what do I want etched?

It is not his actions that need forgiving but mine.  And he is gift to me.  And what I say and do now is entrusted unto me from my Father above.  To mold my son.  To shape him into vessel of love. 

How will he know if I do not show him?

How will he know if I expect from him what I do not do myself?

And these thoughts lead into these same guilts in my larger world.

Yahwey,

Forgive me when I fail to meet my own standards - but still expect others to. 

Forgive me when I choose the bad when I know the good.

Forgive me when I won't apply to myself what I want from others.

Forgive me when I am so quick to see the evil in others and not in myself.

Forgive me when temptation comes and not only he deceives me - but I deceive myself.

Forgive me when I fail what You entrust to me.
Forgive me.

Amen.

Just Add Jesus

Cut Along This Line

Blame the scissors or my hand or my brain but I can't seem to cut off the strip.  I jab at it and chop it and throw the jagged remnants in the garbage.

Anger and frustration over words yesterday.

Pancake mix just add water.

Quick and easy and I need to feed my kids and now the easy zip won't zip and God please don't let this be a bad day.

The conversation was a hard one.  My fault.  I ruined it from the very beginning.

I answered the phone to her asking me to gift someone.  And I said no.  I just can't do that right now and if I did manage it somehow I can only do it for someone that has done it for me.

And a part of me fragmented. 

Sandra doesn't speak a word and I ramble on justifing and ended it with a

Do you know what I mean?

She quietly said, Yeah - dragging it out long and slow.  For she knew I was wrong.

And in the hesitant drawl of that one word I pound nail.

And where is my heart?  Not life organ that beats strong but love giver that is on a slippery slope to nowhere.  It is not joined to my soul because Jesus has my soul but not always my heart . . .

And guilt is still wrecking me and it just says to Cut Along This Line.

And I have.  I've cut line across kindness and goodness and mercy and thrown them jagged in garbage.

And the world keeps turning.

Steam rises and bubbles pop and I turn over pancakes.

They cover them in peanut butter and more butter and I pray, Please forgive me.

Baby cries and I test the warmness of life for him and Max runs, I need to wash my hands, and Jack circles tail wagging at each baby coo with a need to understand this small interruption into his life.

And my world has tilted slightly on its axis.  Turning away from the Son with days like yesterday.

Child is home sick and I kiss the man I love going away for the weekend and on the stove my gift cooks long.

If I could just cut along the line that adds sin to my days . . .

For I am the one that permits my days to be bad . . .

Just Add Jesus.

My world needs to turn as much for what is out there as what is in here.

For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.  Romans 8:13

We are playing the game of Life.

Aren't we always?

When Max moves to the Get Married space . . .

Mommy, me and lou can get ma-weed.

What do you think I said?

Now we can go on date, Mommy.

Yeah, where are we going?

To da bank.

The bank? What are we gonna do there?

Ge' money.

I don't want to go to the bank, that's no fun, baby.

'K, we go to da house.

What are we going to do there?

Side down da sofas.

My son, isn't he romantic - and cheap?

And in the game of life you eat a lot of spaghetti.

No sauce, pease.

A hermit lifestyle would be my preference.

At least that is what I think.

Then Jennifer and I have a conversation.  We discuss how the night before we both tried to find a way out.  We talk about how tired we are and how much schoolwork needs to be done.

Then we smile and laugh at how glad we are to be here.

How would it be - how would I be - if I would always let desire trump laziness?

And the sunflowers turn up to the sun.

And we both know - really know - exactly why we are here.

One Thousand Gifts . . .

We made chocolate chip cookes and ate lots of spaghetti cause it's quick and easy and every day was full.

We celebrated birthdays and little boy heart growing

strong.

She painted shoes and slept in her bed alone.

We moved the girls back home and packed stuff but not memories.

We worked hard and played hard and loved hard.

My thousand gifts in pictures.

My list, #'s 709-720.

No Monsters Allowed

Mommy, 'ook.  No monsters allowed here.

We have pulled into a neighborhood and ever watchful ever alert eyes on face full of innocence sees the sign.  I gaze at his face in my mirror and whisper,

If only

Later he all tucked into bed wearing his Star Wars costume - light saber and helmet at his side - eyes heavy with want of sleep and he is the good hero dressed in white and ready for battle.

I brush back his hair and kiss face I love and remember the sign.

Father God, please keep his monsters small. 

Be strong in the Lord, and in the strength of His might. 

Ephesians 6:10

Later his daddy catches him sitting up in bed playing.  Only moments before he was told no. 

There was a battle and he lost.  For just as it was true in the Garden of Eden until now it is true for him.

Yes son, there is a monster. 

But there is armor. 

Therefore, take up the full armor of God, that you may be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm . . .  put on the breastplate of righteousness . . . taking up the shield of faith . . . and take the Helmet of Salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God.

Ephesians 6:13

And just as it was true in the Garden of Eden until now - there is a hero.  There is salvation.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.

John 3:16

And that monster - he's already lost the war.

"I am He that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death."

Revelation 1:18

And there is an eternity where no monsters are allowed.

Jesus said, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die."

John 11:25-26

And I kiss his sleeping face.

God, let him be your warrior.  Let him be for You. 

Hope

Just a four day leave.

And they say everything and do everything and love enough for months and countries apart?

And Tammy cooks all his favorites to show her love and to stay a heart breaking.  But a love like that doesn't have to show for it breathes.  She breathes in scents of baby skin and little boy sweat and favorite cologne. 

He breathes in kisses of bobos and wiping of tears and fears and Mama, will you marry me?

Inhale memories and exhale hope.  Strength.  Faith. 

For months now she has pulled him close and rocked and held him in her mind and waited for the day.

And today she will let him go and hold and rock the love that remains like babe on shoulder.

And his daddy - there is only one word - pride. For this is his son. HOOAH!

It will be a long road getting from there to back here.

Everyone that loves Ruben has a choice.  And it is not hard.  Choose to hate circumstances or choose to love faith.  Choose to quit or choose to continue.

Or maybe there is no choice?  For love lets you choose little - for what it is it just is.

And love chooses for us.

And it is love and faith and continuing.

Hold on to your faith.  And on those days you can't find it go get some more . . .  It is not far away - just a prayer.

For love is in any language and faith is in any country.

Near or far.

Till  his boots walk this soil again . . .

and his mama holds him again while finally exhaling the fear that crowds.

And my girl - my girl beams giddy again.