Blisters or not I will trudge up hills and pull thorns from my feet because this road leads to a valley of glory. The babbling brooks will sing in worship and the mountains will bow down. It will take my breath away...
Paul... For thirty-seven years, you have given me unconditional love. Your constant flirtation keeps me feeling young at heart and your desire to have me near you after all these years is precious to me. Like my Father, you do it all and take care of everything. I know I don’t tell you enough how much comfort that brings me. You make me feel protected, beautiful, and safe. You are more than a gift to me; you are, in fact, the greatest example of a redeemed life that I have ever known. I continue to fill with love for you as I watch you Father our grown children and Papa our grandsons. I can’t wait for the next season of my life with you. I stand in faith that someday soon I will be beside you in Israel and hold your hand as we walk where Jesus walked. I can already see your tears of joy. I thank God for giving you to me as my husband, and I love you from the deepest place in my heart.
ReAnnon, Garrett, Michael, Chandler, Jude and Reed... Because of you, I know the deepest joy, the sweetest laughter, and the most precious love. Seeing you happy and hearing you laugh simply fills me. You are the reason I have been on my knees before the Lord more times than I can count. Sometimes in praise and sometimes in prayer, but either way, you will always be the deepest cries of this mother’s heart. Because of God’s love for me, and the love He placed in me for you, I am now a worshipper and a Psalmist and I know how to battle for you and I know of the power in the gift of prayer. In mothering you, I fail and sin, but because of it, I continue to come back to the place where I must stand. The truth of God’s word. Being a mother brings me closer to the heart of my Father in heaven and builds my reliance on Him. Through our trials, I have grown in desire to understand the burden of sin and sacrifice of love that Jesus carried to the cross. Because of it, I am in communion with the Holy Spirit helper who gives me strength and I know all things beautiful and lovely come from God. Because of my Father’s love, I can love you with the grace of a transformed and redeemed heart. God made us a family for His purpose, so I pray that each one of our lives bring glory to God. It is what we were created for. I pray that we would persevere through our trials in faith with joy knowing that Jesus suffered for us more than we will ever know. May you be filled with His peace as it surpasses your own understanding, be overwhelmed with the love of your heavenly Father, know the power of the Holy Spirit alive in your life, and never cease to be filled with awe at the Glory of our God. I love you!
Dad...Growing up I felt safe and protected because of you. Every day of my life, you put on a suit, went to work, and at the same time every evening, you came home. You taught me trust. You fixed what was broken, took care of all our things, and always took the time to play. You taught me how to hit a baseball, throw a basketball, and ride a bike. It was not until many years later that I learned not all fathers and husbands did these things. You gave me a childhood full of soft green grass where I laid and dreamed. I will always love the smell and feel of grass under my feet because of you. You sat beside me while I poked tomato worms, called me when you found a praying mantis, and collected jars for my fireflies. You taught me about boxing and I loved it because of you. I still think about the banter between Howard Cosell and Mohamed Ali sometimes. You taught me how to laugh, and took the scary out of thunderstorms. You made them fun. I love you.
Mom...You were my example. I know what a Mother's heart is and what it does because of you. You gave me something precious that I was able to give to my own children. Things of childhood go deep in me because your were my Mom. I love fabric stores because of the time I spent in them with you. I watched you pin patterns and transform cloth into the most beautiful things I hade ever seen. I watched you make yourself beautiful and noticed how Dad looked at you when you did. You were like Jackie Kennedy but prettier and I wanted to be stylish, glamorous, and just like you. I love to sing because of you. My childhood was full of music. I remember album after album of singers and songs and the joy from that. The other day I just burst out singing a song for Jude. It seemed to come out of nowhere, but there it was. "And the Red Red Robin goes bop bop boppin' along.” Jude wanted me to sing it over and over. A day or so later, ReAnnon “googled” the words she had remembered and it had come from a 1960’s “Sing along with Mitch Miller” album. With those words I was flooded with memories. Andy Williams, Glen Campbell, Barbara Streisand, Peter, Paul, and Mary, The Sound of Music.” This was such a gift. And I do not remember a single night that you didn’t make dinner for the six of us. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, homemade gravy, pot-roast, meatloaf, creamed corn. All of these still comfort my soul, and I remember the expensive jars of maraschino cherries that you would bring home just for me when you had a little extra money for groceries. No one but you could have given me these things, so from your Mother’s heart to mine and back… I love you!
Peggy...before God ever put any of this this on my heart, the words you once spoke gave me courage when the time came to step out in faith and try. Your editing made sense of some jumbled messes, and your gift giving, prayers, and encouragement lift my spirit and make me smile. We have worshiped God together in a park in Beijing China on Easter Sunday, laughed along roads in New England while taking in God's glory of fall, and we have prayed in a tiny house in Sera Azul Mexico with floors of dirt. You just “get me”, and your friendship is a precious gift. You bless my life.
Hearts cry, Abba Father! Come Lord, Come! I can't even wrap my head around the devastation from the recent floods and storms. More people have been killed by tornadoes this year than in the last seven combined, but my faith teaches me not to question the sovereignty of God.
When I think about the tragedies I've walked in or alongside in my lifetime, I learned long ago that there is only one choice I can make. I have to trust my Savior through all things beyond my understanding.
I know that as we pray, cry, and grieve alongside everyone effected by these tragedies that God has not missed a single tear that's been shed. He knows the name of every father, mother, sister, brother, aunt, uncle, grandparent and child that are suffering. I know that He has not forsaken nor removed His presence from a single one, and yet, many of them have hearts that are breaking in two.
Pray with me that God would have His way a midst the things we cannot understand. That the truth of His love and the sacrifice of Jesus would be revealed in the midst of the pain. That ashes would be made beautiful. That broken hearts would turn to a Father that heals and Holy Spirit revelation would turn sadness into hope and grief to faith. That everything broken and ugly would have have the breath of new life in the promises of Gods word.
May your glory shine so bright, Lord, that it can not be denied.
And the angels cry,"Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord who was and is and is to come."
I shouldn't be surprised any more when I see the way God loves me, but still, it takes me by surprise.
He knew I would need His word deep in my spirit so he made sure it was there.
He knew how often I'd need to draw on the strength of them and their promises over my life. And He knew the opportunities that would come where I could give them away.
Hear the deep praise of my heart in this place, Lord, and may you forever know my love for you. I am awestruck by your presence over my life and humbled by your love...
I experienced something this week that made me realize I can never remember not being in love with spring.
I grew up Catholic, so in our home preparing for Easter was a big deal and signaled the beginning of Spring for me. In the weeks before, Mother would take my sisters and I to the fabric store. We would sit at high tables and look through McCalls, Simplicity, and Butterick pattern books for dresses. We'd choose fabric then watch the ladies roll it off the bolts and just it just so. When we walked out, the bags were full of rickrack, buttons, thread, zippers and ribbon. And I knew on Easter morning, we'd have matching hats and purses to go with our new dresses.
Around the table at dinnertime, we would learn about Lent, hear the story of Jesus dying on the cross, and talk about what sacrifice each of us thought we could make.
As it drew closer, Mother would begin the dress fittings. She'd slip the pinned fabric patterns over our heads carefully and make small adjustments. I can still see her behind the sewing machine feeding the fabric right up to the foot of the needle where she would then pull the pin at just the right moment and place it between her lips. I can see her tight-lipped smile and her mouthful of pins as she noticed me watching. The week before was marked by Palm Sunday. I remember quiet moments as a little girl brushing soft fronds of the palm against my face, and picture Jesus riding the donkey into the town as people threw them at his feet. On Ash Wednesday the Priest would use his thumb and make a cross on our forehead from ashes, and at night, Mom would be up late sewing lace and buttons on her three daughters dresses. On Good Friday, the night Jesus died, we watched the “Stations of the Cross,” acted out in an extra long Mass. Even as a very little girl, my spirit sensed the seriousness of all of this. Beyond the pretty dresses, Easter baskets, and egg hunts, something much deeper, much more powerful was alive and at work in and around me and I knew it. I can remember waiting for the daffodils and tulips to pop out from the dirt, and running outside in the weeks before Easter eager to report to anyone who would listen that they finally opened their faces. My heart would flutter at the sound of the first chirping birds, and the sight of the first Monarch butterfly. One Easter, when I was about eight, I had a Sunday school assignment. I sat at the kitchen table for a long time struggling. I just couldn’t get my idea onto the fabric. After awhile, my Mother came and sat beside me. My assignment was to portray what Easter meant to me on the piece of white linen. I told Mom what I was thinking and feeling, but didn’t know how to convey it on the material. I remember Mom’s smile, her suggestion, and knowing happily, that it was perfect. It was exactly what I’d wanted to say. And when it was finished, I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. She helped me paint in the Monarch’s wings, and she helped me shape the tulips and daffodils just right. When dad got home from work, he attached a wooden stick under the top corner of the fabric and tied a string onto the rod so I could hang it on the wall. “Alleluia, Alleluia.” It said, “He has Risen.” What I knew even then, is that it is not a coincidence that the Resurrection of Jesus, and the new life of Spring happen simultaneously. It is a deliberate sign from God about who his son is, and what he did for us. Christ’s resurrection immediately follows the Passover and the Feast of First Fruits. As Jesus took all our sin to the cross that day to save us, his gift to us was our new life. Our eternal life. And it is that gift of His Grace that we celebrate in the glory of every new spring bud and butterfly. So earlier this week I found myself in my garden in tears. I was sure that the two berry bushes I had planted the last summer for Jude, (my precious grandson) had frozen and died. I prepared for the worst as I began my first day of spring garden clean up. My tears, however, came from the joy in finding new growth on both the bushes. As I stood there, so in love with Spring and praising God that Jude’s little bushes survived their first winter, I realized how ridicules I must look and how dumb is was to be that happy about berry bushes. But it was then that God spoke to my heart by reminding me that I have understood the significance of Spring and been in love with the glory of His creation all of my life. “And that, my precious daughter,” He said, “Is why I gave you this garden.” So I encourage all of you to look around and see what I see. The significance of Jesus gift of Grace is blooming all around us. See it and be Blessed. Happy Easter.
