Saturday, June 25, 2011

What would you wish for?

Do you you remember these as a kid?  We used to pick them, close our eyes, think of the one thing we'd want most in our whole lives, then hold them up to our face and blow.  As we watched all the little white puffs dance in the wind, an excitement would come over us.  What if our wish actually came true? 

Yesterday I was a taking a walk.  Having summers off is a wonderful gift!  I so wish every person got to have summers off!  I have time to walk or bike daily.  I'm loving it! 

Anyways as I was walking by a cornfield a little puff of white appeared...just a few steps ahead of me.  I lunged for it.

Yes!  Caught it!

I giggled.

I held it up to my face, closed my eyes and wished, "May every person know you, sweet Jesus!"

I blew and watched as all the little white puffs danced in the wind.  An excitement filled me as I thought what if every single person living today knew Jesus.  No, I don't mean 'know of Jesus' I mean really know Jesus, talk to Him like a best friend, get lost in the love of their lives 'know Jesus.'

Instead of being consumed with worry because they were recently cut from their job, they'd have peace...Jesus knows, He'd work it all out. 

Instead of being grouchy because they had snapped at their husband or kids that day, they'd apologize and feel the incredible grace of being forgiven by their most important people and the Savior who loves them, just as they are.

Instead of being overwhelmed by a to do list that is longer than a 24 hour day, they'd ask God to help them sort out what needs to happen and what can wait.  Then when they accomplished the "need to's" they'd smile.  They'd know they'd done 'just fine.'

Instead of getting stuck in the quicksand of negative thinking, How'd I forget to get my husband's laundry done? How'd I forget to get Madison to her orthodontist appointment?  How'd I forget to send Matt his check? What is my problem? They would have the power to substitute God's truth and think of that instead.  Jesus loves me, even when I mess up.  He calls me 'His bride.'  He knows my name, my every thought, my secret dreams and the things that drive me crazy about myself.  He knows me...and He adores me.  Just like the t-shirt Meredith bought the other day says, "I may not be perfect but Jesus thinks I'm to die for."

Instead of getting lost in the frenzy of busyness, going from thing to thing, they'd learn to live each day to the fullest, yes, still having to get some things done, yet valuing their relationships and committing to build there and apply generous amounts of time there, too.

I no longer wish for a swimming pool or a pony as I once did.  No, I'm 45 and I may be a little wiser - maybe.  :)  But this wish can change a life.  I know.  It has changed mine!

P.S. Have questions about "how to?"  Call me.  It's my favorite thing in the world to talk about!

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Happy Father's Day

My Dad!  How I love him!  We share so many traits. 

My mom always told me how after having 3 girls, I was born.  She gasped.  Could it be?  She stared at me...I was a perfect miniature of my dad.  Yes!

Then the doctor proclaimed, "It's a girl." could it be?  I looked just like him.  She checked just to be sure.  Yep. The doctor was right.  

Then she cried.

Why?  I'm not for sure.  Was she really wanting a boy?  Did I look so much like a boy she was worried?  I don't know.  I'm afraid to ask.

So yes, I share my dad's nose, his grin, his short eyelashes, his determination, his optimism, his ability to dream, his hard work, his ability to teach, his love for his family. 

I didn't just have a father, though. I had a daddy.  We would beg my dad to play "throw us out the window."  He'd scoop us up and in a spinning motion pretend to, you guessed it, throw us out the window.  With each swoop toward the window, he would count...1, 2...on 3 he spun us around in a big circle while saying "whee."

He also spent time with us.  He often came up to the house to ask for volunteers to check oil with him.  My sister, Carla, and I would carry oil cans back and forth between the trucks and refilling them in the garage.  I remember him unlatching the side of the hoods of his R-Model Mack trucks and telling us to see if we could pull it down by ourselves.  Yes, of course, my strong, younger sister, Carla could.  I remember struggling with my hood and watching as my dad pushed just a little so I could, too.

My Dad!

He never once got mad when in my 18th year, I had not one or two, but three car accidents!  But it might explain why the very next year as a freshman in college I got a plane ticket to get me home every holiday.

My Dad!

When I didn't get a teaching job the year after I graduated, it was my dad who said, "It's o.k.  You'll get one next year."  It was my dad who said, after my husband graduated and had no pastoral opportunities, "It's o.k.  Come to Ohio and work for me.  That'll give you time until the right job comes along."  It was my dad who said, when he went to a BMX race with Matt and I and Matt was disrespectful, and I felt like the worst mom ever, "This is a tough age.  He'll be o.k."

My Dad!

My dad's always had a way to ease the tough times.  My dad's always had a way of giving me hope that things would be o.k.  And he's always been right...oh er, except for the teaching job the next year.  :)

I never doubted that my dad believed in me.  I never doubted that my dad saw me as "worth his time."  I never doubted that my dad loved me.

So much of me is him.  That's the best gift ever.

My Dad!

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Crazy Song!

Last night as Bobby and I caught the end of "A Few Good Men" Madison and Michaela came bursting in, laughing so hard they could hardly catch their breath.  We were at the part where Tom Cruise is interrogating Jack Nicholson right before he cracks.  We gave the girls "the look."

Amazingly, even Michaela, kept it quiet until a commercial came on a few minutes later.  Then they exploded.  Between laughs, Madison told us about the scene they had just witnessed.

Meredith had been standing at the sink, razor in hand, trying to shave her armpits.  Now for an ordinary person that's not such a big deal.  But for tiny Meredith, with tiny armpits, getting a straight one inch razor to shave her egg shaped pit is a job.  Yet she persisted.  All the scraping started irritating her skin. 

Without warning she burst into song...

Zits in the pits,
Zits in the pits,
Lookin' like a fool with zits in the pits.

She's some Meredith!  :)

Sunday, June 5, 2011


I got Madison on the charter bus to go to Washington D.C. with her Freshman class then zipped back to church to teach my 3rd and 4th grade class.  I snuck in as the opening singing was going on.  I glanced up to see three junior highers leading them in  "Love, Love, Love your Enemies, Pray, Pray, Pray for those who persecute you."  Ooh, one of them was my Mer!  I beamed.

I glanced around the children.  Where was my class? 

Most all of them had been promoted up to their new classes last Sunday.  I looked at the back of their heads, mentally noting who was now going to be in my class.  Kole Baumann, Alainna Butler, Jorden Schonecase, Emma Heilwagen, Tara Garner...babies!  I had many of them when they were in the 3's and 4's class.  They're too little to be going into third grade!

In the blink of an eye, Madison had grown up.  As I helped her pack for her trip last night, I noticed a little framed picture of her as a 4-year old, wearing bunny ears, with her hands cupped up like bunny paws.  Tears flowed uninvited. 

"Mom," Madison asked gently.

I held the picture to my chest.  "Look at you.  You were my baby!"  Her chubby cheeks and round face, I had almost forgotten.

Madison pulled it away and in typical Madison fashion put it back on the shelf where it belonged...but this time backwards.

"We gotta pack!"

Yes, my little tasker was right. 

I glanced around at the babies that were somehow going to be in my class.  I thought of the first time I had met Kole and he had no shoes on.  While in the basement visiting with his mom and dad, we glanced over to find 2-year-old Kole, perched up on the Foosball table.  Kole had just been 2.  How could he be a third-grader?

It hit me. 

To get the amazing privilege to build into a slice of life for each of these babies was off-the-charts incredible.  I get to be their teacher.  I get to share the awesomeness of a God who knows their names, their favorite foods and their favorite colors.  I get to teach them Bible verses they will know forever!  I get to disciple them to be true followers of the one living God.  I get to shake them up so that the fragrance of Christ can pour out of their lives everyday or at least some days.

They will grow up fast...and I get to share in that!