For that one of you who might perhaps be disillusioned into thinking life always goes smoothly in our home, let me paint a mental picture for you.
My two youngest were outside alone for a total of two minutes. Two minutes. I headed outside to check on them, and what to my wandering eyes should appear? But the bare backside of my son who was relieving himself in the woods next to our home. His sister was amazed. She was especially enraptured with how high he could make the arc of liquid stream. Then he decided it would be fun to twist and turn and water the leaves all around him. Unfortunately, his sister was in the line of fire, and her amazement turned to terror when she was doused head to toe in said liquid stream. She turned, saw my arrival and commenced screaming at the top of her lungs, “Mommmeeeee! I am yuckeeeeee! Yuckeeeee on meeeeee!”
Yes, it’s Fair time again. Heapin’ doses of denim, boots, big hair, smelly animals, greasy food, sugar and unsafe rides. Oh my, that sounds so delightful, doesn’t it? So, why is it we love the Fair so much?
As I rocked Audrey that night, she made it abundantly clear what the answer is. She curled on my lap and talked non-stop. I’ll let her words tell you all about it.
“Went to da Faay-er! Audee wide howa-seees (the carousel)! Mommy hold ME! I wide in cawr-a wiff bow-eyes (boys)!
We eat fway-nch fwies ay-nd FWUNNEL CAY-AKE! Pet baya-by duckies!
I watched the hypnotic flash of blue lights in front of us and listened to the monotonous sound of hazard lights clicking on and off. Cars moving slowly in single file through the streets following the police car that led us to the cemetery. Daddy was a pall-bearer, so we rode ahead of the hearse that carried the body of dear Lillian. Cars around slowed, pulled over, stopped. A moment of respect, then they picked up and moved on. Some cars didn’t even stop, either not noticing or not caring. They had a life to live, things to do, places to go. Couldn’t they see the hurt that rode next to them? Or did they not know what they should do with it?
As I have reflected on the past year and all of God’s faithfulness, Jill Phillips’ song, I Am, has been a tool God used to speak the comfort of Who He is to me. I know what the past has held for me. I don’t know what the future holds in this life. But one thing I do know is that no matter what the circumstances of my life may be, God never changes, and He is my Emmanuel. He is with me!
May the words of His faithfulness bless your hearts today.
My mom took the kids and me to Chick-fil-A last week. After consuming large quantities of chicken and fruit cups, we made our way into the playroom for a whopping good time that turned into a nightmare. There were three siblings in there with mine. Two boys and a girl whose parents sat outside not supervising their children and enjoying their milkshakes. I felt the rush of anger and self-righteousness as I watched their kids disobey every rule posted. Climbing where they shouldn’t be climbing, running, etc. It got worse when they began pushing, hitting, pinching, and screaming.
Could it really be one year?! This post was originally published on August 11, 2007.
Last night I held my kids a whole lot tighter before they went to bed. As I snuggled with Bear, I thought about how he climbs into bed with us every so often afraid of the monster in the shadows of his room. He’s had a lot of fear for a 3-year old… recurring nightmares about a mean girl dressed in white who comes up from the floor in his room. I’ve held him so many times and told him there’s no such thing as monsters and that even if there were, his Daddy is big and strong and he’d take care of that mean ol’ monster. Then he smiles contentedly and goes off to his room feeling safe for a while.
We called them our second grandparents. Always ready with open arms to hug us, gum or candy to sneak to us, and smiles that welcomed any stranger, Cal & Lil exemplified the love of Christ. There are so many memories… the sound of Cal’s change jingling in his pocket, Lil’s laugh whenever he teased her, the taste of any of Lil’s cooking, and the sight of Cal patting his belly “complaining” that Lil was feeding him too much. There was Cal’s voice ringing loudly in prayer, and Lil’s sweet agreements to the hymns we sang. There was the constant encouragement that “God is with you.” They were special in so many ways. Holding hands at eighty is a rarity. And Cal and Lil were rare.
By request of my readers (this is for you, Jason!), I am now including an Amazon.com widget to preview or download the recording.
There is something healing about singing the names of God. Who He is. What He has done. When I am singing of His work then none of my own working can enter in, and worship becomes a complete focus on what worship is. Seeing the beauty of Christ. All of Him, none of me.
