Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Oil & Water

Living in the dorms of a strict Baptist college, my wild roomate and I were weary of being “good.” We wanted to have a good time but seemed to have no options. We decided there was nothing wrong with what we were planning to do but we were going to keep it quiet because other Christians wouldn’t understand. Well, toward the end of the night, I was ready to call our fun quits but she wasn’t. She dragged in very late, drunk and with a new boyfriend from campus (that wasn’t right for her).

The next morning I dragged myself to church, alone, feeling very guilty and hypocritical. The class prayed for me right there that day as I confessed on my own free will of how miserable I felt. When I got back to our room, my roommate and I were like oil and water. The room was filled with such tension and division from that point on that I could barely stand to be in my own room!

One weekend she left and stayed out of town so I finally could relax in my own domain. It occurred to me from another person’s testimony that I might could touch everything in her room with olive oil and pray for her as I went around the room and perhaps it would restore what had been lost and bring back the peace. So, I sang and praised God, alone, in our dorm room and anointed her shoes with prayer and each and every hanger she would touch to get her clothes down and the stereo knobs, etc.

When she came back, I left. I was gone a couple of days, but when I came back and walked through the door, she had Christ adoring music playing and had taped notebook paper ALL OVER the entire dorm room (my side, too) with messages of repentance and forgiveness and prayers for God to forgive her. Like I anointed the room everywhere, so did she.  She apologized for our problems and I stood amazed looking around the room at about eight or nine notes taped randomly in our small concrete room. I was told it wasn’t the oil as much as it was my faith. “The anointing breaks the yoke.” Isaiah 10:27

Why we call His word ALIVE

In high school, not long after contemplating God could be real, I had went to a Christian’s house for a slumber party. There were 22 girls there from Satsuma High School. We prayed for an hour holding hands in a circle and I was shocked that it was so meaningful and interesting that it only seemed like ten minutes (my, my what families could do if they replaced TV with that!). If you had told me beforehand that I would sit and be in prayer for an hour I would not have liked that.

I lost a piece of cheap jewelry (highly prized by me at the time) and swore up and down that someone had stolen it (thinking evil of others). Mrs. Dean, now Mary Dean Sikes, (the lady that hosted the party) with kind eyes, helping me look for it, was a little shocked with my value differences and was sure that no one had done such and quieted me with a loving firmness. I remember that as a defining moment not to think evil of your Christian brother. Lo and behold, there it was in the bathroom floor against the cabinet! I felt relieved and ashamed. Her values were clearly more pure than mine. I was saved AGAIN that night as I asked Jesus to be the LORD of my life. I was high emotionally for about two weeks after this experience but it did begin to fade. They had taught me the concept of having a “quiet time with the Lord.” It sounded good and I was trying to implement it with diligence. Just me and God, alone, talking everyday.

One day, a cheerleader from the party skipped up to my locker to ask how I was doing as a new Christian, and I, being in a deeply serious mood, kinda snapped at her, “Well, let’s see…I have had nightmares three nights in a row of Satan scaring and paralyzing me. My mom works at night and I am at home alone. Why would God, who loves me so much, allow this?!” I skipped all the “hello, thanks for asking, it’s nice talking to ya.” She didn’t wince at my sarcastic tone a bit but tried hard to remember just the verse I needed…”Oooh it is something about snakes and scorpions…here, here is my phone number, call me when you get home and I will have it for you!” I was flattered because I thought she belonged to a higher class than me but didn’t take her seriously. By the time I got to class, I had decided to throw her number into the wastebasket by Mrs. Salter’s desk. I got home that afternoon and fixed a nice big bowl of cereal (my habit everyday) and went to the TV. I debated on whether or not I would have my “quiet time” with the Lord since the new was wearing off and all.
Captain Crunch and I decided I would. So, I begin in prayer, "God why are you letting the devil do this to your child? Three nights of the same terrible dream. Don’t you love me? Are you really there?" I opened that Holy Book and my eyes fell on Luke 10:19 and it has been a part of me since. “BEHOLD, I give you POWER to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and NOTHING shall by ANY means hurt you.” Out of the thousands of verses I could have looked on, THAT very one? I mean in 1989 there was no youtube or internet for me. So, ironically I am digging a phone number out of the phone book (hated doing abc order as a lazy teen) that I had just trashed two hours earlier to call cheerleader Amy and tell HER the verse. This was a big deal to me because I didn’t know the Bible well and was a baby Christian. I was proud!
So, His word is alive in me.

God Plays Basketball

I spent a great deal of time at my very athletic boyfriend’s house when I was a teen drinking all of their milk and eating their ice cream. His parents loved me and his brother hated me (maybe because of the ice cream). We had dated five years and I was proud of that. When God began calling me and him, he refused and I accepted the call.
It went something like this:

I explained how we could not be unequally yoked together and that I couldn’t be in an intimate relationship with him if he would not make Christ the center of his life and become a Christian. He and I were alone that day at the house because my mom had dropped me off. There were no cell phones, really, back then. He full well let me know he wasn’t going to go to church and be what I expected and I was hurt that he was going to throw our whole five year relationship away at this turning point. I was going home! Called mama, but she wasn’t answering. So, I, sulking, sat there in front of him on the couch. I thought “what now, God?” So, the strangest thing happens. Boyfriend asks me if I want to play basketball. Umm, dugh, NO! Play basketball when you are throwing our relationship away? That's how I felt but I yielded instead of letting him have it! First of all, I only played that game when we were bored out of our minds around there for I was allergic to sports and not very adept at them. How could he simply ask me to play a game when my heart was breaking?! Since, I had just asked God “what now” and I had heard somewhere that he works in mysterious ways, I accepted this weird current.

A little background info:
(not my photo)

There was a special spot I stood in when throwing the ball toward the net, it was much closer to the goal than normal. My boyfriend stood farther back in the normal range. He always won but encouraged me through the game. I really hated it. I began making a few good shots that really surprised me. I got the idea that maybe God was going to use this game somehow to fix the problem at hand. So, I got bold and moved to the area that he shot from instead of my little spot. I wanted God to get full glory. Shortly after, the ball hit me in the face-- you could probably see my nose throbbing like a cartoon. I would have used that excuse to quit and he knew it because he ran up to me apologizing and saying, “We don’t have to play, we can go in.” I said “No, we will play the game.” I had just thought to myself while holding my face “a fruit of the Spirit is longsuffering.” So, I would suffer.
Now, my words aren’t going to be able to capture this part but I’ll try. I threw the ball furiously trying to keep it from him and it would go into the net. I was suprisingly good for a bit and he began to argue and cheat over a point (at this point I was flattered). I let him have the point because I knew by now that God WAS in this game. I would win. I played with the faith of a child. Then I made some poor shots again. “Oh no, what’s wrong?” I thought. Then I thought again “Are you going to have faith, still?” I said yes to me and kept trying (although I think, now, some of my thoughts were really not my thoughts at all but the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit). That ball, I would throw it and it would land on top of the entire goal board and spin only to fall into the net. It was hilarious a few times how I kept getting points. But the final win put goose bumps on me with waves of warm joy. Instead of trying to get the ball from me, he stood, watching me as I was going to attempt a three-pointer (all the way back to his chain link fence) to win this game. The girl who had a special spot close to the rim because I had weak upperbody strength, now had a special trot. I was nervous a little though. I steadied and prayed seeing only the ball in my face and the blue, cold sky around it. “Jesus, please help me get this ball in.” I threw it with all I could and IT DID NOT EVEN TOUCH THE RIM, WHOOSH! Into the net it went. I heard “you can do ALL things through Christ that strengthens you.” And I looked at Boyfriend after I did the happy dance for a second, and said to him earnestly, “You can do all things through Christ that strengthens you.”
I have reflected on this story through the years and shared it a few times. It’s funny to me how all of life’s events are like the ups and downs in this game. When I was doing well, it stopped and I began missing shots. Would I still believe? When I got hurt doing something good, would I be willing to suffer for it? Pay for it? Would I know the sufferings of Christ? You will suffer in this world. Either for good or evil. Would I live life in the comfortable special spot or do greater things than my own ability with Christ and faith?
With some of the crazy shots that I had made, I can see that my ability-my own strength-won’t make it by itself—God’s gotta put a spin on it.

Gracious Living

We were very poor. Plastic containers had just been slowly leaking into the market for organization. I had CRIED OUT to God to help me with the mess in my life (fist in the air and all). I had always heard He was a "God of Order." Organization was a must and God had begun teaching me things through Julie Morgenstern Organizing from the Inside Out. She says that organization is a skill anyone can learn, but I experienced some of it that way and the other was a gift from God. Let me clarify:

I didn’t take some of her advice seriously while reading the book and even disagreed with the Professional Organizer at times (lack of funds caused me to not invest in her wisdom). Two years down the road after some changes in my life, I was able to receive and accept things that either I argued with or didn’t need and skipped over in the previous readings. I used the book for a few years to change my ways. More of her wisdom was available to me at a later date when I was ready.

I was keeping a clean, orderly home, doing a good enough job. As a reward, I could go to my girlfriend’s house (you know who you are), and spend time with her. She, like me, was overwhelmed in the same situation. It was my good pleasure to try and free her like I was being freed. Some girlfriends are very sensitive about this and they can take offense to your good ideas to help them. And, what works for some will not always work for another. People must be ready and they must trust you and well, you must be led by God if you are going to be an effective Professional Organizer. Okay, Okay, I’ll get to the point.

Just before going to her house, I had looked at a newspaper advertisement that featured an awesome plastic container that was 17.99. “That was expensive for plastic drawers!” Yes, that is how poor I was. It might as well had been 100.00 to me. There is no way I could have that. Oh well, I thought and went on to go help my friend “clean up.” Well, it was a mess for sure but I was optimistic and was telling her about the container I saw and thinking she might could get it and use it. She really needed several. She was dynamic with lots of stuff. She was in such a horrible mood about it that it fell on deaf ears and she wasn’t very pleasant to work with that night. We did make it better though. Early the next morning I got a phone call from my mother-in-law. She was a newspaper reader and not too involved with my life but involved enough to know I was onto organization and she had a good heart. She said, “Melanie, I saw something in the paper at Big Lots for 17.99 and I just wanted to know if you wanted it, it…” I interrupted, “OH MY GOD, I can’t believe this!” I exclaimed. “ I just saw it yesterday and wished I had it. I even tried to get my friend to get it for herself. Thank you sooo much! YES!” When she brought it to me, it had a small blue and gray sticker on it from the company called “Gracious Living” and it had a crown on it. I still use the container ten years later (and I have went through many of them). It was no coincidence, it was God and I know it. He gives us just enough light for the step we’re on sometimes.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

God Speaks Through Your Children

I guess God was after me to become pure. He was definitely watching me and checking things. All of this happened in one month. I am so grateful:

I shopped at the Goodwill store a lot when I was without the boys. I can’t tell you how I went broke saving money! One day, a new item had been donated by the store and I was in there to shop in the last 15 minutes before closing. It was a strong, gorgeous purse, unusual. “Eight dollars?!” “This is the Goodwill, people!” Yes, I know, that’s really not bad but I was an aggressive bargain hunter and could find better deals. The cashier was annoyed by my pondering this purchase because she really wanted to lock up and go home. She rang me out and was locking the door, keys wringling, as I studied the receipt outside. “Hey, she forgot to ring up the purse” I noticed. Oh well, when I come back in next week, I’ll just pay for it. So, a few days pass and I begin to rationalize (after spending my other money) that I don’t have to rush back there—after all, it was their mistake. Why should it inconvenience me? I thought, I do a lot of business there and they really aren’t going to miss it. It was given to them! It could have easily been given to me. So, I pull in my friend’s driveway for just a moment to say hi, not getting out of the car. My very young son was in the car with me. She compliments me, “What a cute purse.” My son just spills out to my adult friend, “She stole it!” We both looked at him…eyebrows wrinkled...awkward. Well, just what could I say? So, I said, “WHAT?! Why did you say that?” He had no idea why he said it. Things that make you go hmmmm..

A week later, I go swimming at a local creek with my threee boys. I happen to see my "first love" of several years. The nostalgia of it was exciting but I was acting calm, cool, and collected. I hadn’t seen this person that I dated six years of my life in over 15 years. I introduced my children and he introduced his. We were just into asking how the parents were, standing at the water’s edge when my young child, in the most innocent, sweet voice, says to me and him “Is that your husband?” Well, my first love was taken aback, literally stepping away physically though he was not in my personal space but he seemed shocked with a nervous laugh. I was shocked, embarassed and dumbfounded until I realized that the Holy Spirit is like some quality control manager of my marriage, my life. Yes, this same child about the “stolen purse” had spoken a precise word in due season, again. I hadn’t even had adulterous thoughts, YET. We laughed it away but there was nothing else to say, really. The excitement dissolved before it strengthened. Now this must have been a trying time for me and my marriage because I was dealing with the spirit of adultery (if there is such and I am sure there probably is). I would get mad at my husband, harden my heart, and remember the verse that tells me if I do that I will fall into calamity (crisis). But…..

I was taking a different son out on a “date.” I had a few errands to run before our date officially started and would be seeing a man in this that was my husband’s friend. He had kinda flirted with me before and said that I always “looked good.” So, as I was pulling the mascara through my eyelashes close up to the mirror, my son wanders up and says, “you know, Mom…you might not look pretty to other men, but you are beautiful to me.” OOOOOOO-K. The mascara brush halted. What noone but me and the Lord knew is that I was NEVER around other men and had no idea where he was coming from except that at that exact moment my heart was meditating on things exactly matching his strange little statement.  I wanted attention and to feel good. By the way, if my husband reads this, I blame him for letting me feel that vulnerable.  I knew right then by the third time that God was on me like white on rice!
So, I paid for the purse by way of donation AND when I have a stray thought toward another man, I pray and renounce outloud anything that sets itself up above God and His ways. I pray for that man's life.

Fear not, for I will be with You

My Dad called me at 3:46pm on Fri evening of October 2010 and left a voicemail that strongly and simply said, "FEAR NOT--For I will be with thee." We were on our way to ride rides at the fair. That's not a feel good message. He also isn't into the custom of calling me frequently and especially not in the habit of leaving Voice Mails like that. So, silently I worried what doom was lurking around me? Would the ferrris wheel come unhinged? He has a gift of discernment that has been amazing in the past. I was a bit unsettled with this warning.

By the next morning at 9:10a.m. I had to call 911 to lift thousands of lbs. off of my son and neighbor (neighbor's back not broken but both feet were) and it was traumatic! The roof collapsed on a shed built two or three decades ago and it was very heavy.  My husband had just left and I was alone with the boys doing work in the backyard. The shock I was feeling made me go in slow motion, I couldn't dial three digits on the phone fast enough. I experienced shock but had hope that God was near because of that strange, timely message. My other two sons were able to make it out of the building that we were demolishing with a deep small cut to an arm as they fled through the threshold of the falling structure. My first born son and neighbor was trapped under the weight of this (whom I could hear but not see or access ) and is fine this morning.
My very kind neighbor ('Big Mike' Crenshaw with the two broken feet) had no insurance and no pain meds. Emergency workers had to cut their way throught the building rubble to get to him. After I called my Dad to let him know what had happened, he told me that he had been washing dishes the day he left me that warning and all of a sudden just stopped and made that call. God can see the enemy's plans and intervene.

Demons in my house

My mother didn’t believe me. To the best of my knowledge, they were not very strong demons. They showed off for her though when she stayed one night. I wasn’t really living for God, or “walking in the Spirit.” I decided that if demons were real then I know for sure God is! I got on the phone and called a church or two. The lady said to me that because I was a Christian, I would be harassed. “But I have anointed my house with oil!”You could still see the cross oil marks I had made on the paint job in the slant of the light. No one offered to come out and pray with me, so I figured it out on my own.

The plan for my life that the devil had was to break me down. Make me COO-COO for Cocoa Puffs, Wear me out. Cause me to think evil of my husband and his family. Isolate me and tear my support away from me. Yell at my kids, abuse them because MY needs were not met and I had to meet all of their demands NOW. Learn to blame again. He tried accomplishing this through waking my stair-step babies through the night. I had an IMMENSE FEAR that because I was blessed, that something was on its way to destroy the good in my life. I made sure the windows were locked when my kids slept because of a show on Oprah where a woman’s child was abducted because the windows were unlocked. I FEARED SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome) all my child had to do was go “uh” in the middle of the night and I was like a sleep deprived, neurotic supersoldier on my feet in an instant. Baby monitors had nothing on me. My children, rarely if ever, slept through the night (I tried everything) and they were born consecutively almost and were healthy.

 My husband had to work and it was hard work in the heat—he had to get rest so I tried to take the blunt of being up with them at night. When the children were able to sleep at a grandparent’s house (usually only one child so I hardly got rest even then), I heard the crying anyway. Sleep deprivation causes hallucinations but it’s funny I had no hallucinations unless it was time to be asleep and rest. I did not sleep when they slept at nap time for FEAR of them waking and being in danger while I slept. Two toddlers in a house without supervision is irresponsible and you will pay in some fashion or another.

Once, all the kids stayed overnight  with my mom. I thought FINALLY! I was looking forward to some PRE-BABY life relaxation but the devil’s minions had other party plans. With ALL the children gone, I woke to the sound of crying! Lying there, I full well knew they were not at home this night. Nevertheless to shut the sound up, I got up anyway. I walked to their CLOSED bedroom door (still hearing the crying) put my hand on the knob, and opened the door to an empty room of silence. That’s when I began figuring out the evil plan.

On another night, I woke up to the crying of my first child, settled him down. Then I woke not long after to the sound of my middle child and got up with him. Just as I drifted off to sleep, third son wakes up crying. This happened merry go-round a few times and it will make a momma beside herself with anger! Even if I spoke to the demon(s) after refusing to lay my head on a pillow again “yeah, go ahead, just wake up the next one” --it would. On a different night, I was up because I couldn’t sleep. I sat in my child’s room at about 2:30 3- ish a.m. I was watching their little TV and heard from the front room “BAM- BA- LAM- BAM- BAM!” We had wooden floors in the front living room and I was at the very back of the house. I frightfully yelled for my husband that someone was in the house. He gets up, fist pulled back, crabbing sideways toward the living room. NOTHING. No one. Next morning, I get up in my clean, everything in its place home, and our family portrait is across the room on the floor face down. It being the only thing out of place--way out of place. “They must have been really mad”, I thought. That’s what they did when mom was there. They threw a VHS movie across the living room and she acted as though she didn’t see it but it was her first acknowledgement the next morning. Also, of important note, it WAS always in the 3 a.m. hour that these things happened. There is something to the “witching hour” but I don't know how that works in different time zones ;)

O.K. so how did I finally rid myself of demonic show-offs after first having to identify the problem? I knew the Word of God AND BEGAN APPLYING IT.
I knew that God “dwells in the praises of His people.”_Psm 22:3 SO, I began praising.
I knew that if I draw near to God, then, He will draw near to me. James 4:8   I lifted my hands and on my knees while I was afraid.
I knew I wanted to aggravate those demons like they were doing to me. So I put Christian TV and radio on all through the house....And most importantly,
I knew NOT to rejoice that I had power over them LUKE 10:19 and Luke 10:20 but to just rejoice that my name was in the Lamb’s Book of Life. His presence makes them flee.
It is not by might, nor by power, that getting rid of those pests would happen, but by His Spirit. Zechariah 4:6.

James 1:23 and 24 described me because God taught me amazing things when I was younger but because I knew them and did not do them, I was like a man staring at his face in a mirror but walking away, forgetting what he looks like. I would pray and then FORGET what I even prayed for! I turned every radio I owned to POWER 88 Christian radio and at this time, WORSHIP videos were on TV with singing and scripture, I turned them on. I got ON MY KNEES in the middle of the chaos and lifted my hands to a worthy King and began singing fragments of the old worship songs that I knew. They don’t wanna be here when Jesus draws near me. That’s when they left, after a few times of that. God is real.

On A Royal Telephone

I was told, "God isn't moved by your desperation, but by your desperation FOR HIM." I found this to be true after awhile. I was stuck in a rut asking Him for change and seeing nothing happen. I began wondering, "What is wrong with me, that He will not honor my prayers?" I was trying to get out of sin. Why couldn't he just microwave me a miracle and fix me? So, based off some scripture on fasting--I had had ENOUGH and decided I would do this for three whole days. I was determined to get God to move for me. I had a good attitude, I kept my mind on Him and tried praising him with the best of my singing during the day.

I wasn't accustomed to praying a lot though I had faith and was full of the Word.  A close friend in the Lord asked me to pray for her grandmother, that was in the hospital, with a possible broken collar bone. My friend, Tiphani, was worried her elderly granny was far from Jesus and just wanted prayer for her. I hesitantly agreed to pray for a lady I didn't know or feel anything for. I really didn't care. Just being real honest folks. BUT....I loved and cared for Tiphani--I felt that. Because of her, I decided I would pray and honor her request. Now I know, this sounds terrible--but this is the state I was in. So, I prayed for Helen with the same earnest I would have prayed for Tiphani.

I went on about my day as usual working, working, working. Then as I was scrubbing carpet in the babies room and singing fragments of long ago praise songs that I could muster and remember, it occured to me so strangely and definitely that this Helen needed a song in her heart--the joy that I was feeling as I sang.  So, I promptly with bubbles and yucky stuff on my hands--stopped in the middle of the job--to deglove and call Tiphani. She answered, and I don't even know if I said hello. I just matter- of -factly said, "Tiphani, Helen needs a song in her heart!" After saying it, I knew it was an abstract random way to begin a phone call. For a milli second, I thought, she is going to think I am a scatterbrained! But, much to my delight, she was as enchanted about it as I was. "OH MY GOD, I cannot believe you just said that." She had an accepting tone in her voice. After her thoughts took their time to process my diagnosis for her grandmother, she said that her grandmother had just asked several granddaughters to please find an old song that she hadn't heard since like the 30's. We didn't have Youtube--so that would be a HUNT! It was called "Royal Telephone or Telephone to Jesus--something like that."

Tiphani was feeling challenged by the request and we were trying to figure where to find this old song--if we even could find it. We called Christian music stores asking what to do. All of that was to no avail. However, God validated her request through me as a result of fasting and prayer.I got to be a chosen vessel of the KINGDOM OF GOD, WOW! That's what makes me feel ALIVE.

Finally, a year later, we found it. Guess where it was? I had a CD with it on there the whole time we were looking for it. It was on a Burl Ives CD that I had bought but never listened to. I had had it for several years. It's amazing, isn't it? God showed me in an awesome way how prayer works for those you do not even know. I was bursting with joy to be able to wrap up the cd to be gifted to Helen. Be in love with your Maker. He is so worthy.

My Boys and Their Fighting

Why can’t music start playing in real life’s teachable moments like it does in musicals? There would be a lot less fighting in the world if love songs started playing when people were mad at each other. I armed myself with a song to sing for the next time my strong -willed boys would start to fight.

 It was an old country song (Thank God for You Tube). See if you know it…"they’re gonna fight and they’re gonna fuss, but they’ve got something special-it’s brotherly love....We fought like tigers over that old red bike, I’m batting first and you can’t use my glove..” Keith Whitley sang it with Earl Thomas Conley. It helped a little, once.
Another time, I took one of my boys to the store to buy his brother a gift for a future opportunity to exercise grace for the next fight. I told him, “Now when you get into your next fight, use the power of grace with this gift.” So we wrapped it and I hid it under my bed and waited. A few days later, the battle of wills began between the “sons of thunder” (and their names are James and John). Two of Jesus’ disciples were nicknamed this because they fought so much and they were brothers. I was able to arm my youngest with tangible grace. It really helped, but you can’t do this everytime. I mean, it would break my bank and presents don't always fix things. It did work nicely. Above all, it was memorable.

A momma just can’t fix everything. I bowed my head and prayed while they were going at it in the living room once~ though I was about to go all “coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs” on them because I can’t take their fighting! When I had finished praying  I looked up and they were hugging and crying. It wasn’t for show, it was a real desperate prayer and God was right there, right then. You get tired of responding the same way and it never changing! It’s too bad that this wouldn’t happen EVERY time, but it did
work that time.

When my youngest kicked my meanest, most aggressive of the trio in the chest (and this at my lovely glass table), my meanest started swelling up with a prideful steam. His face turning red as he held his breath and his eyes grew wide with the pain it takes to control yourself and be graceful. He had been learning about grace and forgiveness with home education. I knew what he was trying to do~ control his anger and forgive. He, usually, wouldn’t have taken as long to return fire being my most intense child. He began to cry as he submitted to God’s teaching and died to his own will--chest heaving and all. I sat there like I was watching a movie as it happened in lightning speed.  Holding back that flesh hurts more than getting it kicked, obviously.Are you ready for this?

The countenance of the youngest started to change and he, too, began to cry in the millisecond of unpredictability. They hugged one another, crying harder than they could ask for forgiveness (ages 9 and 11) and they stood there hugging one another as I looked on without a word~mouth open but no popcorn. I stood there, dumbfounded, at the Spirit of God working between them. I assure you, this is not a natural reaction. Thank you, Father. (Pic not of my actual boys)
Thanks to my Dad who once responded to me in a letter through postal mail, “you may be carrying him right now, but the memories of his growing and learning will one day carry you.” That is precisely true.