A Blessing That Conquers Even A Mother

I think of my girl, the first one I carried. The first one who took my heart with her when she left my womb. And I have never gotten it back, and know I never will. 

I replaced it with another and that one got taken too . . .

Who said we only get one?  Not a mother.

I think of Juvenille Diabetes. Words spoken twelve years ago almost to this day in what was to be the merry month of May. Spoken to me in private. Spoken gently and softly so they could sink in. But they never have. I have to wonder why? She was at the doctor the other day, too old for me to go with her?

Now when I think of her I almost always think of him.  They go hand and hand.  They love each other and are beginning to make plans.  Where did the little girl with the ribbon tied around her head go?

Where did the little red-headed boy holding the lunchbox go?

 Pray with me for a mama's heart?  For thinking of him brings thoughts of another.

Papers have come and we will be seeing him off to another place like another world much too soon.  I know Tammy's plans and dreams for him did not include this.  When would fear for your child be a dream you hang your wishes on?

But what is fear?  Is it a lack of trust or faith?  Or, is it just simply consequences of a fallen world?

Is it possible to not fear for your child? 

We do not have to be involved in a physical war for us to be involved in a war.

So he will fight one and his mama will fight another.

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places. Ephesians 6:12

Wicked spirits oppose faith and love. They try to trick us or force us to an unbelief - an unbelief that is not possible because we do believe.

But there must be a fight for sin seeps from our pores.

Paul is not speaking of a wrestle of body.  But as Jacob fought, a wrestle of the soul.  And we struggle for a blessing -

I will not let go until you bless me . . .
Genesis 32

and we struggle with God and with men and we overcome.  And we limp.

And with this belief that is our shield and armour we will trust even our womb's dearest gifts to the Kingdom of the Son.

And yes, I wait for the numbers of sugar that is not sweet and yes, I ask too many questions and I hover and yes, I try to take back my role as the womb nester. 

And yes, she will jump each time the phone rings and yes, she will watch the news and read the paper with heart eyes that want to turn away.  But yes, she can't.

Yes, we can wrestle and like Jacob we can win a blessing.  And as it conquered a brother afraid and gave a new name,  it can conquer even a mother.  

One Thousand Gifts . . .

This gratitude post is more than a month old.  I never hit the publish button because it felt very mine, very much mine alone. 

 Sometimes we speak of things and lose it?  Or is that silly?

Even though I know I can't lose his love, sometimes I still travel down roads of past and know I don't deserve it.

It's still dark outside.  Morning is just beginning to stream down.

He's already up.

He comes back and lies down next to me.  Right in the little space on my left with the large expanse of king empty on my right. 

He holds me and I cry.  I sit up I lie down I sit up I lie down and I ramble and I worry. 

He lets me and tells me the same words he has said over and over lately, It's gonna be alright, Rie.

He listens and then prays what I need.

And all my thousand gifts I'm listing beside us on the nightstand. 

But him I can't list.  I can't count this kind of love.  I can't give it a number or a place.

Because it just is, and I'll never understand why me.

My gratitude list continues . . .

friends to watch him at the park

small iv needles

resurrection eggs

ticked off mornings with no backlash

loving texts and emails

once again bringing extra chairs in

forgiveness and forgiving

Craig's reminder - in small things or great

a daughter's servant heart

My list, #'s 641-649.

We Are Perfectly Safe

My oldest is no longer a child.  She has past those years and entered adulthood with only a few passing storms. 

Some that left her daddy and me feeling like we were standing in the storm alone, but they passed and left rainbows in their wake.

We are at a family reunion.  She's with the adults now and is telling of her life.  How school is going, how her love life is, where she is working . . .

This one.  Where she is working.  She tells of the alternative school and the discipline problems that get her students sent there.  I'm listening and there is nothing new.  I even say . . .

 "Last week one of the students punched her in the stomach." 

I feel a little sick as the words come out, words that sound foreign.  Words that don't belong . . . 

But like Lisa we are stripping worry away.  So I straighten my back and tell myself it is okay.

Then she begins to tell of things I didn't know.  Like the child 

One Thousand Gifts . . .

I'm spread out, three Bibles around me when I remember the toast under the broiler.

And weeks now my mind has been one track and I'm seeing my selfish ways.

I'm open to the book of James and I read . . .

And those who have reason to be thankful should continually be singing praises to the Lord.  James 5:13

It's a rugged and sometimes painful kind of Christian living this book of James reveals.  James was realistic and brave, crystal clear in meaning when he wrote.  Words of God.  Letters from God.  Written then to guide me now.  Chastise me now?  Yes.

I'd like to avoid the impact of James at times, his gutsy writing that reaches in and sees me real pulls out my messes and brings them to surface. I'm feeling like I'm holding my breath so I don't sink.  I'd rather stay on top and keep my messes below - hidden where they belong.

But I need to breathe.

I throw away the toast and start over.  So how can I wonder why about this small thing or these large things or anything else when God tells James to tell me that I must sing with praises?

Then I close my eyes and let God tell me Himself.

And

My gratitude list continues . . .

burnt toast

paint on the walls

spray paint on the hands

tears and his I sorry

second chances as I sigh and start gratitude over, and over, and over . . .

dirty faces

winter clothes packed away

dinner out when I'm too tired

free downloads

muscle relaxers

hearing Izzy read to Max

lunch with Donna

easy conversation

an empty dishwasher

finding all the mates to the socks washed

a lemon dream at two in the morning

fur lined boots and eighty degrees and he doesn't care and I smile knowing this will make my list

cell screen that lights up 'Janice'

My list, #'s 622-640.

One Thousand Gifts . . .

A man has made at least a start on discovering the meaning of human life when he plants shade trees under which he knows full well he will never sit.  D. Elton Trueblood

Growth and time. 

I was twelve years old the day I came home to find my daddy planting a tree in the center of our back yard.  Little small tree.  My young mind could not then comprehend the time it takes to produce a huge sprawling tree.  Years would have seemed like a lifetime to me then.

I don't remember, but I'm pretty sure I asked him how long it would be till I could climb it.  How long till it was tall enough and strong enough to support my weight.  If I could have awoken the next morning to an overnight transformation of that tree I would have missed much.

I now live with my family in the house I grew up in.  And look at what my children get in that old tree.

And like that tree I have grown and matured.  But I learn every day that I have far still to go . . . 

They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. In all that they do, they prosper.  Psalm 1:3

My gratitude list continues . . .

treehouses and rock walls

ziplines and helmets

running into friends at the store

birthday invitations

t-ball practice

empty mason jars

chocolate chip cake

bug spray

notes from my children

catching him with a can of spray paint

old photographs

painted faces

tulips

melted ice cream

stained glass

open discussion

tears for Jesus

the Jonah class

My list, #'s 603-621.

Just Another Mommy Moment

Mommy, I'm gonna put dis iceceam in da feezer cause dis is iceceam in da boddom of dis cone.

Mommy, I cant open feezer door.

Oh es, I got it.

Mommy, I cant weach da feezer.

Oh es, I got it.

I rise from my comfortable position at the computer, reading Lisa Notes, and go to the "feezer".  Just to double check.  Cause y'all, this one sided conversation with the Maxster stems from "dis" one yesterday.

Mommy, I put my iceceam cone in da figerator.

No baby, icecream will melt in the refrigerator.  You have to put it in the . . . (sigh) Oh, Max.

And that's when I found the icecream cone.  Melted and dripping down onto the shelf below.

Which is when I grabbed a rag.

Which is when I'm grateful for verses like this one.  Just to remind just who and what are blessings.

"And when Esau lifted up his eyes and saw the women and children, he said, “Who are these with you?” Jacob said, “The children whom God has graciously given your servant.”

Genesis 33:5

And then that same night. I open the door after visiting the wake of my dear friend's mom to find this . . .

standing at the door waiting.

(Sigh) Oh, Max.  They're beautiful.  Mommy loves them, and you.

A Person of Second Chances

And I'm studying Jonah and we read on Aaron.  And then today in one of my other daily readings I read that every Moses needs an Aaron.  Do you want me to think on Aaron, God?

I'm not a Moses y'all.  So am I an Aaron?

It's Sarah I identify with.  How she jumped ahead of God.  My guilt lays heavy on my cross before God – my always questioning of His timing. Then His answer and I am not listening and I decide to do His work for Him – because He’s too slow. A sin continually forgiven.

So there's Aaron and I'm not ready to quit on what God desires me to hear from Aaron. I’ve never given Aaron my time - given God my time through His servant Aaron’s story.

Even when Aaron had been allowed to climb the mountain he could not approach God. Moses went higher. Aaron’s command was to worship from a distance.

He said to Moses, “Climb the mountain to God, you and Aaron, Nadab, Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel. They will worship from a distance; only Moses will approach God. The rest are not to come close. And the people are not to climb the mountain at all.” Exodus 24: 1-2

Moses was set apart and how must that have made human Aaron feel?

Do we ever feel set aside instead of set apart?

Moses goes to the top to talk with God. To have an audible conversation with his Maker, the lover of his soul. God. And this was before Jesus came to be our bridge to God. This was before the gift of the Holy Spirit to speak and guide us.

Did Aaron feel left out? Did Aaron desire to speak with God as Moses did -

. . . face to face, just as a man speaks to his friend. Exodus 33:11.

And Moses is on the mountaintop with God. We learn in Exodus 28 God’s plans for Aaron. God is telling Moses what to do to make Aaron, whom God loved and was pleased with, His High Priest. How to dress Aaron and set him apart.

“Get your brother Aaron and his sons from among the Israelites to serve me as priests . . . “ Exodus 28:1

And where is Aaron?

He had been left below. Maybe his human self felt left behind?

Left to control the people. An assignment from Moses – but a purpose given to Aaron by his Father God.

And time passed and the people grew tired and restless.

“When the people realized that Moses was taking forever in coming down off the mountain, they rallied around Aaron and said, “Do something. Make gods for us who will lead us. That Moses, the man who got us out of Egypt – who knows what’s happened to him?” Exodus 32:1

Oh y’all, I’m hurting for Aaron at this time. God has me thinking about him – not just reading his story again. God has me thinking about myself.

Was Aaron like us today? In our mission? Maybe not recognizing our usefulness to God? Do we sometimes feel this way – useless in our purpose? Unimportant compared to others?

Aaron was hearing this person and that. This need and that desire. Voices all around him. Unsatisfied voices telling him to go here or do this. His own voice? Voices like we hear? Voices like our own?

And then what did Aaron do?

So Aaron told them, “Take off the gold rings from the ears of your wives and sons and daughters and bring them to me.” They all did it. . . He took the gold from their hands and cast it in the form of a calf, shaping it with an engraving tool. . . Aaron, taking in the situation, built an altar before the calf. Exodus 32: 2-4

Where was Aaron while Moses was on the mountaintop hearing God’s plan for his servant Aaron? Aaron was below building the golden calf. Carving and sculpting an abomination to God.

And in all of Aaron’s goodness, his courage and strength during the troubled days past, the miracles he had seen and participated in – in all of this he still lost faith. He lost his courage for God.

And in all of Rie's goodness, her courage and strength during the troubled days past, the miracles she had seen and participated in - in all of this she still lost her faith.  She still lost her courage for God.

I am so much an Aaron, and a Sarah, and a Saul, and a Peter, and . .

Aaron was gift to Moses. God knew what He was asking of Moses. God knew the depth of this journey He was asking His servant to walk in. Lead in.

God knew Moses could not complete this task of leading His people out of Egypt and into the promised land alone. Aaron, as a brother to Moses and child of God, was instrumental in this plan.  So Aaron was gift to Moses.

Aaron had a purpose. And even if we see him playing second or third fiddle to Moses, we see how much God’s plan needed Aaron.

So God does not need us. Everything He desires will be accomplished without you or me. But His plan’s need us. And we need Him. And He answers this need by interrupting our lives to help us see our purpose. Over and over again He does this in His goodness and love to us. Over and over again until we see.

My purpose is not grand, y’all. Mine’s not physically going on top of a mountain and seeing God in His glory and hearing God face to face. Mine’s not speaking and leading thousands of people to Christ – to their own promised land. An Aaron and not a Moses?

But it’s still my purpose. And it is grand in the eyes of my Father. And as I'm studying God's people of second chances I see myself. For Aaron was forgiven and became God’s first High Priest. God knew the mistakes Aaron would make beforehand – and He still planned his purpose.

And I search for God’s face.

He will accomplish in spite of me – not because of me.

For I am a person of second chances.

One Thousand Gifts . . .

A wise woman who was traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream. The next day she met another traveler who was hungry, and the wise woman opened her bag to share her food. The hungry traveler saw the precious stone and asked the woman to give it to him. She did so without hesitation. The traveler left, rejoicing in his good fortune. He knew the stone was worth enough to give him security for a lifetime. But a few days later he came back to return the stone to the wise woman.

"I've been thinking," he said, "I know how valuable the stone is, but I give it back in the hope that you can give me something even more precious. Give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me the stone." - The Wise Woman's Stone, author unknown

I'm still counting gifts from above. 

It's deliberate for me.  Planned and calculated and purposeful.  It's premeditated.  Sometimes it's hard.  But I try not to notice things anymore as just the ordinary.  Every moment and what is in it is a gift from above. 

Some of these moments are hard moments.  Sometimes hard moments drag into hard days.  Uncertain days. 

This is when my list being deliberate is its most useful. 

It is hard not to notice when I'm trying to notice.

My list continues . . .

her peeling bananas

the sound of the heat cutting on in a chilled house

tornado sirens

feather extensions

lightweight jackets

giving my umbrella away

borrowed umbrellas

land lines

spinach salad

the first day of spring

delivering food

warm rice pudding

a card in the mail

play grocery shopping with Max, complete with sound effects - beep, shoosh, wees

listening to the old men at the VA

doggies clipped to jean belt loops

puppets

memories of a building and a friend

Tammy's caramel cake

spring allergies

pizza with the best of friends

friends still together

My list, #'s 580-602.

What the Word? Wednesday

It's been a while but here's a new word for What the Word? Wednesday.

Maxster is getting so much better with his speech that finding a word can be difficult.

But . . .

there are still some words . . .

Yeah, what's that word?

Remember, comment all guesses and check back tomorrow for the answer.

And thanks for playing.

Penny and her six got it right - corduroy!

Congrats and I love you guys!

Donna - love the I love Miss Donna part.

I Lo Lou More

It might not make sense to you, and certainly probably doesn't matter.

But I have to remember.

I lo lou, Mommy.

I love you too, Max.

I lo lou more!

No, I love you more!

I lo lou all da way to Pluto

or all the way to

da moon

or

da back hole

or

da stove

or

China

or

dat cabinet

or

dat door

or

dat phone

Or whatever his eye catches or his little brain thinks of when we play this game he loves.  His crazy places to love me makes me crazy with love for this son I still am amazed I have.

 God's timely way of loving me - perfect.

And today,

I lo lou, Mommy.

I love you too, Max.

I lo lou more!

I love you to that vase.

I lo lou all da way to dat oder vase.  The boo one.

The boo one?

No, the boo one.

Oh, the blue one.