Just read the most interesting excerpt from How to Listen to God (by Charles Stanley) about guilt. It distinguished between "true guilt" which stems from sin against God and "false guilt" which the devil places upon us by accusing us of not living up to God's standards. It indicated that, if our sins are confessed and we are not involved in disobedience, then the accusing voice is from the devil which is inconsistent with God's word. God’s word promises: "There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus." Romans 8:1. Since the accusing voice (the one that reminds us of all our sins even after confession and repentance) is totally inconsistent with God's word, then it is false and "is a dart of satanic condemnation."
The excerpt pointed out that false guilt is the devil's deception. When God forgives us, we are forgiven! His forgiveness settles the matter once and for all! Interestingly, the article stated that those of us whose hearts remain guilt-ridden are self-centered because we are so concerned about what is wrong with ourselves and how to get our acts together. (Ouch!).
Another excerpt from a Beth Moore book indicated that living as if we're unforgiven (under guilt and condemnation) once we've been forgiven is a sin itself. It is the sin of unbelief. It is slapping Jesus right in the face and saying "what you did on the cross wasn’t enough; it really didn't matter at all." (Ouch!).
Anyway, it seems to me that many of us from the South were raised by good ole Southern guilt. Our families, friends, preachers and teachers whipped us in line with it. Something about it felt almost righteous. Guilt was our mark as Southern martyrs. And so we carried this burden of guilt over, not only past mistakes, but also pending decisions. When it finally got too much, we placed it at the foot of the cross with our prayer for deliverance. But, at the “Amen,” we picked our guilt back up, returned it to our back where it belonged, and carried it on with us. And though professing to be Christians - - Christ followers - - our lives did not reflect the freedom, joy, and peace they were supposed to. Our lives did not entice and attract unbelievers struggling in sin to the cross like they were supposed to. When the lost looked to us, they did not thirst for what we have. They felt bad enough already.
But God is good. All the time. If we confess and repent of this sin of unbelief (guilt), he will forgive that too. He will even forget the sin. (“I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more.” Isaiah 43:25). And he mandates that we forget it too. (“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.” Isaiah 43:18). He promises to do new things - - to carry us to a new place. (“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up, do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.” Isaiah 43:19).
Anyway, this is where I am. This is my present struggle. To confess and repent of the sin of unbelief - - of living under false guilt. To leave this one at the cross and to move on into the new things God is doing in my life.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
April Storm
I just read an article entitled “Tornado record set: 292 in April - and Counting." http://www. msnbc.msn.com/id/42768670. The article called this month “an April to remember” as far as severe weather is concerned. It noted that this April has set a record of 292 confirmed tornadoes in the United States. The number is staggering when compared to the facts that April averages 163 tornadoes and that the old record number of tornadoes for April was 267 which occurred in 1974. The article also noted that there have been over 5,400 severe weather reports so far in April this year - another staggering figure when compared to the average nationwide severe weather reports of 3,300 for the month of April.
So far today, there have been reports of twelve deaths: six in Alabama, five in Mississippi, and one in Arkansas. Life on this earth . . . .
As I continue to watch the Storm Track Doppler Radar on my local tv station, I can’t help but recall the horror that last April 24, 2010 produced in my hometown of Yazoo City, Mississippi. That tornado took lives. Flattened homes and business. Shattered dreams.
It has, indeed, been “an April to remember.” Which brings to mind something - someone - even more important to remember: our God. HE never promised “no storms.” In fact, his word tell us “when” the storms of life come . . . not “if,” but “when” . . . (Isaiah 43:2 “When you pass through the waters . . . when you pass through the rivers . . . . When you walk through the fire . . .”). But it also tells us HE will be right there with us, delivering us, protecting us, seeing us through - - (“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. . . “).
Storms happen. All are affected - the good and the evil, the just and the unjust. (Matthew 5:45 “. . . He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”). But, as believers, we have the presence that non-believers don’t have. We have Jesus right there with us - in every storm. We have to remember, to cling to just who Jesus is. HE is the master who rebukes and silences the storms! HE is the one that the storms of life obey. It’s right there for us in Luke 8:24-25 (The Message): “One day he and his disciples got in a boat. ‘Let's cross the lake,’ he said. And off they went. It was smooth sailing, and he fell asleep. A terrific storm came up suddenly on the lake. Water poured in, and they were about to capsize. They woke Jesus: ‘Master, Master, we're going to drown!’ Getting to his feet, he told the wind, ‘Silence!’ and the waves, ‘Quiet down!’ They did it. The lake became smooth as glass. Then he said to his disciples, ‘Why can't you trust me?’ They were in absolute awe, staggered and stammering, ‘Who is this, anyway? He calls out to the winds and sea, and they do what he tells them!’
The storms keep rolling in this April day. But you know what? I’m gonna blare Casting Crowns’ “Praise You In This Storm” and sing out loud right into my hair-brush microphone just like I used to do to the Carpenters with my cousins, Tracey and Terre.
Here I go . . . are you with me?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MUWbmtbzDno
“I was sure by now
That You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away, stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say, Amen and it's still raining
As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain, "I'm with you"
And as Your mercy falls I raise my hands
And praise the God who gives and takes away
And I'll praise You in this storm and I will lift my hands
For You are who You are no matter where I am
And every tear I've cried You hold in Your hand
You never left my side and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
I remember when I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry, You raised me up again
But my strength is almost gone
How can I carry on if I can't find You
As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain, "I'm with you"
And as You mercy falls I raise my hands
And praise the God who gives and takes away
And I'll praise You in this storm and I will lift my hands
For You are who You are no matter where I am
And every tear I've cried You hold in Your hand
You never left my side and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The Maker of Heaven and Earth
I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The Maker of Heaven and Earth
And I'll praise You in this storm and I will lift my hands
For You are who You are no matter where I am
And every tear I've cried You hold in Your hand
You never left my side and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
And though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm”
So far today, there have been reports of twelve deaths: six in Alabama, five in Mississippi, and one in Arkansas. Life on this earth . . . .
As I continue to watch the Storm Track Doppler Radar on my local tv station, I can’t help but recall the horror that last April 24, 2010 produced in my hometown of Yazoo City, Mississippi. That tornado took lives. Flattened homes and business. Shattered dreams.
It has, indeed, been “an April to remember.” Which brings to mind something - someone - even more important to remember: our God. HE never promised “no storms.” In fact, his word tell us “when” the storms of life come . . . not “if,” but “when” . . . (Isaiah 43:2 “When you pass through the waters . . . when you pass through the rivers . . . . When you walk through the fire . . .”). But it also tells us HE will be right there with us, delivering us, protecting us, seeing us through - - (“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. . . “).
Storms happen. All are affected - the good and the evil, the just and the unjust. (Matthew 5:45 “. . . He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”). But, as believers, we have the presence that non-believers don’t have. We have Jesus right there with us - in every storm. We have to remember, to cling to just who Jesus is. HE is the master who rebukes and silences the storms! HE is the one that the storms of life obey. It’s right there for us in Luke 8:24-25 (The Message): “One day he and his disciples got in a boat. ‘Let's cross the lake,’ he said. And off they went. It was smooth sailing, and he fell asleep. A terrific storm came up suddenly on the lake. Water poured in, and they were about to capsize. They woke Jesus: ‘Master, Master, we're going to drown!’ Getting to his feet, he told the wind, ‘Silence!’ and the waves, ‘Quiet down!’ They did it. The lake became smooth as glass. Then he said to his disciples, ‘Why can't you trust me?’ They were in absolute awe, staggered and stammering, ‘Who is this, anyway? He calls out to the winds and sea, and they do what he tells them!’
The storms keep rolling in this April day. But you know what? I’m gonna blare Casting Crowns’ “Praise You In This Storm” and sing out loud right into my hair-brush microphone just like I used to do to the Carpenters with my cousins, Tracey and Terre.
Here I go . . . are you with me?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MUWbmtbzDno
“I was sure by now
That You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away, stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say, Amen and it's still raining
As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain, "I'm with you"
And as Your mercy falls I raise my hands
And praise the God who gives and takes away
And I'll praise You in this storm and I will lift my hands
For You are who You are no matter where I am
And every tear I've cried You hold in Your hand
You never left my side and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
I remember when I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry, You raised me up again
But my strength is almost gone
How can I carry on if I can't find You
As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain, "I'm with you"
And as You mercy falls I raise my hands
And praise the God who gives and takes away
And I'll praise You in this storm and I will lift my hands
For You are who You are no matter where I am
And every tear I've cried You hold in Your hand
You never left my side and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The Maker of Heaven and Earth
I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The Maker of Heaven and Earth
And I'll praise You in this storm and I will lift my hands
For You are who You are no matter where I am
And every tear I've cried You hold in Your hand
You never left my side and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
And though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm”
Saturday, April 2, 2011
My Conviction
This morning I was so convicted. I was studying Isaiah, my favorite book of the Bible when it happened.
First, why I love the book of Isaiah - I love the book because, though it’s about God’s anger and the coming judgment, it’s also full of hope and encouragement for those of us in captivity. It reveals our God as a God of mercy, grace and compassion. Indeed [did I really just type that? Indeed?], in one of my very favorite verses, it tells us that God - - the God of the whole universe - - longs to be gracious to us. (Isaiah 30:18). How awesome is that? It promises redemption for the remnant. And, incredibly, it challenges us to live beyond our past mistakes - - to actually forget them as God himself has. [Isaiah 43:18-19: Forget the former things! Do not dwell on the past. See I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland. Isaiah 43:25: “I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more.”]
As an interlude, I stopped, re-read, and reflected upon my very favorite verses from Isaiah and all the promises they hold:
Isaiah 1:18: “. . . Though your sins are like scarlet, they will be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.
Isaiah 4:5-6: “then the Lord will create . . . a cloud of smoke by day and a glow of flaming fire by night; over all the glory will be a canopy. It will be a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain.”
Isaiah 30:21: “Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it’.”
Isaiah 32:18: “My people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest.”
Isaiah 40:11: “See, his reward is with him, and his recompense accompanies him. He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart...”.
Isaiah 41:10, 13-14: “‘So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand . . . . For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, do not fear; I will help you. Do not be afraid . . . for I myself will help you,’ declares the Lord.”
Isaiah 42:6-7: “I, the Lord, have called you in righteousness; I will take hold of your hand. I will keep you and will make you to be a covenant for the people and a light for the Gentiles, to open eyes that are blind, to free captives from prison and to release form the dungeon those who sit in darkness.”
Isaiah 43:1-2: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”
Isaiah 43:4-5: “. . . you are precious and honored in my sight, and . . . I love you . . . . Do not be afraid, for I am with you.”
Isaiah 44:21-22: “Remember these things . . . I have made you . . . I will not forget you. I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist. Return to me, for I have redeemed you.”
Isaiah 48:17: “ . . . I am the Lord your God, who teaches you what is best for you, who directs you in the way you should go.”
Isaiah 49:13" “ . . . for the Lord comforts his people and will have compassion on his afflicted ones.”
Isaiah 49:15-16: “. . . I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hand.”
Isaiah 49:23: “. . . I am the Lord; those who hope in me will not be disappointed.”
Isaiah 51:3: “The Lord will surely comfort . . . and will look with compassion . . .; he will make . . . deserts like Eden, . . . wastelands like the garden of the Lord. Joy and gladness will be found . . . thanksgiving and the sound of singing.”
Isaiah 51:12: “I, even I, am he who comforts you.”
Isaiah 51:16: “I have . . . covered you with the shadow of my hand . . . “.
Isaiah 52:12: “. . . for the Lord will go before you, the God of Israel will be your rear guard.”
Isaiah 54:7-8: “‘For a brief moment I abandoned you, BUT with deep compassion, I will bring you back. In a surge of anger I hid my face from you for a moment, BUT with everlasting kindness I will have compassion on you,’ says the Lord your Redeemer’.”
Isaiah 54:10: “‘Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,’ says the Lord, who has compassion on you’.”
Isaiah 57:18: “I have seen his ways, but I will heal him; I will guide him and restore comfort to him . . . “.
Isaiah 58:8-9, 11: “Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I . . . . The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.”
Isaiah 60:19-20: “. . . for the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory. . . the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your days of sorrow will end.”
Isaiah 61:1-3: He sent his prophet to “ . . . bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners . . . to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve . . . [to] bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.”
Isaiah 63:9: “In all their distress he too was distressed, and the angel of his presence saved them. In his love and mercy he redeemed them; he lifted them up and carried them all the days of old.”
Now - the conviction that struck me so heavily. I fail miserably in my approach to God. Most often, I approach him casually. Occasionally, flippantly. Sometimes, even begrudgingly. It struck me as I was studying Isaiah 6. There, Isaiah found himself in the presence of God - a holy God - so holy that the whole earth is filled with his glory. [Isaiah 6:3]. He recognized how very sinful he was (how can one not recognize his or her own great sinfulness when contrasted to the magnificent glory of God?) and cried out an anguished “Woe to me! I am ruined!” In response and through his great mercy, God provided the atonement for the sin and the guilt Isaiah felt.
The reference to atonement led me to Leviticus 16 which describes the Day of Atonement. And there it was. Verse 2: “The Lord said to Moses: ‘Tell your brother Aaron not to come whenever he chooses into the Most High Place behind the curtain in front of the atonement cover on the ark, or else he will die, because I appear in the cloud over the atonement cover’.” As I reflected on that verse, God brought another to my mind and I flipped quickly to it. Exodus 3:5: “‘Do not come any closer,’God said. ‘Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground’.” I saw the notes I had made in the margin of my Bible on some prior occasion which directed me to two other verses - Joshua 5:15 [“The commander of the Lord’s army replied [to Joshua], ‘Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy’.”] and Acts 7:33 [where Stephen repeated God’s mandate to Moses from Exodus 3:5].
And the conviction fell on me like a magnificent weight: my approach to God matters to God. He is holy - - three times holy as pointed out in Isaiah 6:3. More directly, HE is God, and I am not (even though I so often try to control and direct my own life). His thoughts and ways are not my thoughts and ways. His thoughts and ways are higher than my thoughts and ways “as the heavens are higher than the earth.” [Isaiah 55:8-9]. He is Magnificent. Omniscient. Omnipresent. Omnipotent. Omnific. Perfection. Vigilant. Holy. Sinless. Sanctified. Love. Compassionate. Patient. Righteous. Gracious. Benevolent. Merciful. Just. Unceasing. Unchanging. Tenacious. Long-suffering. Tolerant. Forgiving. Consuming. Redeeming. Healing. Reliable. Trustworthy. Glorious. And, yet, I sometimes jump out of bed in the morning without pausing to seek him. Throw up a flippant “help me” prayer during the day when I am in need. Fall asleep during my bedtime prayers. Manage to get my kids to school on time and myself to work on time; yet, walk into God’s house late, Sunday after Sunday. Dress “appropriately” for work; yet, sometimes, much more casually to enter into God’s house. I make appointments with him I fail to keep. Show up late for other appointments I’ve made with him. I talk and talk and talk to him, pouring out my needs and heart’s desires. Yet, I rarely listen to him. I plan each detail of my life, and ask him to bless my plans. Yet, I fail to consult him regarding his plans for those details. I take my good news and my disappointments to friends, family members, and Sunday School teachers first, only turning to him when all else have fallen short or failed (or, more precisely, refused to simply validate or affirm MY thought, position or desire). I use his name frivolously “Oh my God!”. I ignore him. I complain to him and about him. I pout with him. I get angry with him. I am more inviting and welcoming to a stranger who shows up at my door than I am to the God who saved me and redeemed me (at a very high price).
The weight of this conviction overwhelms me as the recognition of his sin and guilt overwhelmed Isaiah. Like Isaiah, all I can cry out is: Woe to me! I too am ruined. I too am a sinful person, living a sinful life, among sinful people. God help me!
First, why I love the book of Isaiah - I love the book because, though it’s about God’s anger and the coming judgment, it’s also full of hope and encouragement for those of us in captivity. It reveals our God as a God of mercy, grace and compassion. Indeed [did I really just type that? Indeed?], in one of my very favorite verses, it tells us that God - - the God of the whole universe - - longs to be gracious to us. (Isaiah 30:18). How awesome is that? It promises redemption for the remnant. And, incredibly, it challenges us to live beyond our past mistakes - - to actually forget them as God himself has. [Isaiah 43:18-19: Forget the former things! Do not dwell on the past. See I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland. Isaiah 43:25: “I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more.”]
As an interlude, I stopped, re-read, and reflected upon my very favorite verses from Isaiah and all the promises they hold:
Isaiah 1:18: “. . . Though your sins are like scarlet, they will be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.
Isaiah 4:5-6: “then the Lord will create . . . a cloud of smoke by day and a glow of flaming fire by night; over all the glory will be a canopy. It will be a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain.”
Isaiah 30:21: “Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it’.”
Isaiah 32:18: “My people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest.”
Isaiah 40:11: “See, his reward is with him, and his recompense accompanies him. He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart...”.
Isaiah 41:10, 13-14: “‘So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand . . . . For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, do not fear; I will help you. Do not be afraid . . . for I myself will help you,’ declares the Lord.”
Isaiah 42:6-7: “I, the Lord, have called you in righteousness; I will take hold of your hand. I will keep you and will make you to be a covenant for the people and a light for the Gentiles, to open eyes that are blind, to free captives from prison and to release form the dungeon those who sit in darkness.”
Isaiah 43:1-2: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”
Isaiah 43:4-5: “. . . you are precious and honored in my sight, and . . . I love you . . . . Do not be afraid, for I am with you.”
Isaiah 44:21-22: “Remember these things . . . I have made you . . . I will not forget you. I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist. Return to me, for I have redeemed you.”
Isaiah 48:17: “ . . . I am the Lord your God, who teaches you what is best for you, who directs you in the way you should go.”
Isaiah 49:13" “ . . . for the Lord comforts his people and will have compassion on his afflicted ones.”
Isaiah 49:15-16: “. . . I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hand.”
Isaiah 49:23: “. . . I am the Lord; those who hope in me will not be disappointed.”
Isaiah 51:3: “The Lord will surely comfort . . . and will look with compassion . . .; he will make . . . deserts like Eden, . . . wastelands like the garden of the Lord. Joy and gladness will be found . . . thanksgiving and the sound of singing.”
Isaiah 51:12: “I, even I, am he who comforts you.”
Isaiah 51:16: “I have . . . covered you with the shadow of my hand . . . “.
Isaiah 52:12: “. . . for the Lord will go before you, the God of Israel will be your rear guard.”
Isaiah 54:7-8: “‘For a brief moment I abandoned you, BUT with deep compassion, I will bring you back. In a surge of anger I hid my face from you for a moment, BUT with everlasting kindness I will have compassion on you,’ says the Lord your Redeemer’.”
Isaiah 54:10: “‘Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,’ says the Lord, who has compassion on you’.”
Isaiah 57:18: “I have seen his ways, but I will heal him; I will guide him and restore comfort to him . . . “.
Isaiah 58:8-9, 11: “Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I . . . . The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.”
Isaiah 60:19-20: “. . . for the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory. . . the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your days of sorrow will end.”
Isaiah 61:1-3: He sent his prophet to “ . . . bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners . . . to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve . . . [to] bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.”
Isaiah 63:9: “In all their distress he too was distressed, and the angel of his presence saved them. In his love and mercy he redeemed them; he lifted them up and carried them all the days of old.”
Now - the conviction that struck me so heavily. I fail miserably in my approach to God. Most often, I approach him casually. Occasionally, flippantly. Sometimes, even begrudgingly. It struck me as I was studying Isaiah 6. There, Isaiah found himself in the presence of God - a holy God - so holy that the whole earth is filled with his glory. [Isaiah 6:3]. He recognized how very sinful he was (how can one not recognize his or her own great sinfulness when contrasted to the magnificent glory of God?) and cried out an anguished “Woe to me! I am ruined!” In response and through his great mercy, God provided the atonement for the sin and the guilt Isaiah felt.
The reference to atonement led me to Leviticus 16 which describes the Day of Atonement. And there it was. Verse 2: “The Lord said to Moses: ‘Tell your brother Aaron not to come whenever he chooses into the Most High Place behind the curtain in front of the atonement cover on the ark, or else he will die, because I appear in the cloud over the atonement cover’.” As I reflected on that verse, God brought another to my mind and I flipped quickly to it. Exodus 3:5: “‘Do not come any closer,’God said. ‘Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground’.” I saw the notes I had made in the margin of my Bible on some prior occasion which directed me to two other verses - Joshua 5:15 [“The commander of the Lord’s army replied [to Joshua], ‘Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy’.”] and Acts 7:33 [where Stephen repeated God’s mandate to Moses from Exodus 3:5].
And the conviction fell on me like a magnificent weight: my approach to God matters to God. He is holy - - three times holy as pointed out in Isaiah 6:3. More directly, HE is God, and I am not (even though I so often try to control and direct my own life). His thoughts and ways are not my thoughts and ways. His thoughts and ways are higher than my thoughts and ways “as the heavens are higher than the earth.” [Isaiah 55:8-9]. He is Magnificent. Omniscient. Omnipresent. Omnipotent. Omnific. Perfection. Vigilant. Holy. Sinless. Sanctified. Love. Compassionate. Patient. Righteous. Gracious. Benevolent. Merciful. Just. Unceasing. Unchanging. Tenacious. Long-suffering. Tolerant. Forgiving. Consuming. Redeeming. Healing. Reliable. Trustworthy. Glorious. And, yet, I sometimes jump out of bed in the morning without pausing to seek him. Throw up a flippant “help me” prayer during the day when I am in need. Fall asleep during my bedtime prayers. Manage to get my kids to school on time and myself to work on time; yet, walk into God’s house late, Sunday after Sunday. Dress “appropriately” for work; yet, sometimes, much more casually to enter into God’s house. I make appointments with him I fail to keep. Show up late for other appointments I’ve made with him. I talk and talk and talk to him, pouring out my needs and heart’s desires. Yet, I rarely listen to him. I plan each detail of my life, and ask him to bless my plans. Yet, I fail to consult him regarding his plans for those details. I take my good news and my disappointments to friends, family members, and Sunday School teachers first, only turning to him when all else have fallen short or failed (or, more precisely, refused to simply validate or affirm MY thought, position or desire). I use his name frivolously “Oh my God!”. I ignore him. I complain to him and about him. I pout with him. I get angry with him. I am more inviting and welcoming to a stranger who shows up at my door than I am to the God who saved me and redeemed me (at a very high price).
The weight of this conviction overwhelms me as the recognition of his sin and guilt overwhelmed Isaiah. Like Isaiah, all I can cry out is: Woe to me! I too am ruined. I too am a sinful person, living a sinful life, among sinful people. God help me!
Monday, February 7, 2011
My Cowboy
You know what’s amazing? To wake up each morning and know that you’re loved. Deeply and completely loved. It makes every day, rain or shine, worth waking up for. Which brings me to my man - my cowboy - Jack.
I first met Jack more than thirty years ago at the Forest Park swimming pool. I was just fourteen years old, enjoying the summer before my freshman year in high school. I wasn’t a good swimmer, but I loved being at the pool with my friends. I had spent the night with Melissa Hood the night before, and her mom had dropped us off at the pool for the day. Melissa was diving off the diving boards and swimming all over the pool. I was laying lazily across a raft just enjoying the day when this handsome, blonde-headed boy caught my eye. He kept swimming by me and glancing at me, offering an occasional grin. But as soon as our eyes met, he’d turn his head and swim off again in a “I’m the best swimmer here sort of way.” Finally, he swam over, draped his strong arms (he’s always had the most amazing arms!), over the opposite end of my raft, shook his wet hair out of his face, and said “Hi - I’m Jack. You’re Melissa’s friend.” Right then, my heart began to race. I was so nervous and was thinking desperately for something clever to say. But all that came out of my mouth was the infamous “Hi back” and something to the effect of “Well, I’m not exactly her only friend.”
Jack ended up hanging on the end of my raft the rest of the day. We were both so very timid and nervous. Few words but a whole lot of sheepish grins were exchanged. And, all day, Jack filled the cap from some spray can with water, and poured it over my shoulder. We talked very little and grinned rather sheepishly at each other. And I don’t really recall our parting words that day. I just know that I was so reluctant to leave the pool, fearing I’d never see Jack again.
That night, Melissa came home with me to spend the night at my house. I don’t recall exactly where but my parents went some place, leaving me and Melissa in charge of my younger brother, Brad. Lucky for me, Melissa was always good for a game or two or three hundred of Atari or Pong with Brad. Because, to my astonishment, Jack called! I spent hours on the phone with him, not knowing or caring or even thinking about where Brad was or what he might have been into. Melissa, I still owe you for keeping him entertained that night!
Anyway, that hot summer day led to a lot of firsts for me - - my first phone call from a boy! - - my first visit from a boy! - - the first time my hand was held! - - my first kiss! my first gift from a boy (a ceramic owl music box for Christmas - wish I could remember the song it played)! - - my first county fair “date”! - - my first love! - - and the first time my heart was broken!
Jack and I tried “dating” (and I use the term loosely because at 14, my dad surely wouldn’t let me leave the house with Jack) for a very short time - - six months or so. We talked on the phone for hours every night and saw each other when we could - - whenever he could drive to Eden to see me, or drop by Melissa’s to see me, or come watch me march in parades and football games. But we didn’t go to school together, and I couldn’t date yet, and, so, we just gave up on the belief that it might work. We have very different stories about the end. I remember him breaking up with me - - telling me “this just isn’t going to work.” He remembers me breaking his heart. Either way, we stopped talking altogether almost as abruptly as we had started our innocent, whirlwind romance just a few months before.
The next conversation Jack and I had was my senior year. I had just been crowned homecoming queen, and he was at the game. He had graduated high school by then but, for whatever reason, had come to Manchester’s homecoming game. I remember catching his eye - he was standing on the sidelines - and remember that, once again, that handsome, blonde-headed boy had my heart racing! I feared he wouldn’t come over to speak and, at the same time, feared he would! Finally, after everybody had wandered off, I looked up and there stood Jack, grinning that familiar grin at me. He walked over and hugged me, and my heart leapt. It leapt! I don’t remember what he said to me. I just remember hoping to hear from him again - - back then girls didn’t call boys so I couldn’t dare call him. But how I hoped he would call! He never did.
Life went on for both of us. We both married and had children. Then, about twelve years after that homecoming night, I saw Jack again. My husband and I had just moved to Tupelo after accepting jobs as attorneys in a Tupelo law firm. We had started work on the Tuesday after the Super Bowl game that year and, that Thursday, we went to a Northeast Mississippi Claims Association meeting and dinner at the Back Porch with our new boss, Dan Webb. Dan was introducing us to various insurance adjusters and claims representatives when I looked up and saw that familiar grin. To my utter surprise, I found myself standing face to face to Jack Dearman! He said “Hi again.” I said “Hi back.” Then, he kissed me on the cheek. I blushed instantly. My heart raced once more. And I heard Dan lean over to my then husband and ask, “Reckon she knows him?”
As it turned out, Jack had moved to Tupelo shortly before we did. Though we both lived in Tupelo at the same time for a year or two, I never saw Jack again while he lived there. I did run into him one other time, after he had moved to Memphis, when he returned to Tupelo for OLEPUT. I remember my twins were babies and were crawling through some sort of tunnel in the kids’ play area when I looked up and into that familiar grin.
Believe it or not, another fourteen or so years passed. Then one day, four or so years after Jack had divorced and a year or so after I had divorced, I signed up for facebook and, to my surprise, found myself staring right into that familiar grin again. Jack’s hair was dark then - not a trace of blonde left - but the twinkling eyes and sheepish 16-year-old grin were just as they always had been.
[This was Jack's profile picture then].
Hesitantly, I sent Jack a friend request. A day or so later, he accepted and, to my delight, in-boxed me. We flirted for a while on facebook and then, one day, he asked if he could call me with a legal question. I was a grown, 40-something-year-old woman, and yet was scared to death to give him my number. Scared he wouldn’t actually call. More scared that he would. I typed my number in the in-box message, hit send, and, I think, stopped breathing while I desperately tried to think of a clever way to answer the phone if he actually called. Within minutes, the phone rang, and I answered. “Hi again,” he said. “Hi back,” I responded. We talked and laughed and teased and flirted and remembered for over an hour. When I finally couldn’t think of any legitimate reason to hang on any longer, I bid Jack good-bye and hung up the phone. But I didn’t move for hours. I sat there at my desk, re-living every moment of that first meeting at Forest Park, that first time he took my hand, that first time he leaned over and kissed me. My head even filled with that old British Sterling scent he wore.
Jack and I continued to flirt on facebook. We text’d back and forth on occasion and, on even more rare occasion, we talked on the phone. From time to time, Jack would text “Hi.” I would text “Hi back.” And then - - nothing! A day, two days, six days - - nothing. But, about the time I’d delete him from my contacts, I’d get a “Hi again.” We talked about meeting - - Jack even said “Just say the word, and I’ll come to Tupelo” - and, then, we both retreated in fear. Ultimately, on July 1, 2009, Jack and I saw each other again, for the first time, after all those years! One look at that handsome man, and I knew there was no turning back this time. The second time we saw each other again, we sat across the table from each other at dinner, grinning our silly school girl and boy grins, and dreaming of a future. We danced around the topic and finally Jack made a comment about what we were both not saying. I looked him right in the eye and said, “you mean that I love you and I think, just possibly, I always have?” The rest, as they say, is history.
Jack and I are on the most awesome journey together. We’ve struggled through a lot of difficulties including the geographical barrier of more than 300 miles. But, we’ve had so much fun! We’ve gotten more pleasure out of the simplest things like morning hikes and photo shoots of covered bridges at magic hour. Campfires and star-gazing. Shared cups of coffee and cooking together (even took a class together at the Viking Cooking School). Rainy day movie marathons. Late night talks. Lots of reminiscing . . . We’ve discovered so much about each other and so much about ourselves through each other. We’ve loved completely, maybe for the first time, and deeply, and unconditionally, and steadfastly. We’ve shared the deepest recesses of our hearts and have finally thrown down all the barriers, all the self-preservation. We’ve become vulnerable to each other and have shared every secret, every regret, every shame - - but also every tenderness, every hope, every dream.
Jack is the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. I can’t believe God has blessed me with him (again)! He’s incredibly handsome and strong and protective. He’s good-natured, light-hearted, positive, and upbeat most of the time. Jack always finds the silver-lining; he’s the epitome of an eternal optimist. He really believes that, sometimes, good things just fall right in your lap.
Though you might not know this about Jack, he is deeply spiritual. He walks
close to God and has a deep and abiding friendship with him. He loves and respects all of God’s creation. Nothing makes him happier than to be in the great outdoors, just taking in all the beauty God made for us. He’s an avid and talented hunter but never kills just for the sake of the kill. He’s very selective in the animals (mostly deer) that he does kill and often, lowers his rifle when he could have shot.
I’ve never seen a father love his daughter more than Jack loves his daughter, Tori. He loves her totally and unconditionally and gives her the gifts of his heart, his time, and his undivided attention. I’ll never forget spending an evening with the two of them when they started reminiscing about the book Jack used to read to her every morning and a different book he used to read to her every night. They both began quoting the little story books, word for word (“Good morning Merry Sunshine, How did you wake so soon? You scared the little stars away and shined away the moon”), and just beamed as the memories clearly flooded their minds and hearts.
One thing that has surprised me the most about Jack is how quick he is to offer sincere, deep-felt apologies. I’ve never had a man take my face in his hands, look deeply into my eyes, and apologize for the slightest infraction. He clearly experiences pain himself when he realizes he’s hurt my feelings and he insists (even when I’m resistant) on making amends right then and there. At the same time, Jack is very forgiving. He’s quick and eager to accept an apology and to let me completely off the hook. He doesn’t bring up past transgressions and, I’m guessing, doesn’t even revisit them in his own mind.
Jack’s also a very talented craftsmen. He makes the most amazing things - - leather bracelets, necklaces out of arrow heads, bird houses, knives, arrows - - and he pours his heart into his work. He showers me with these gifts of love and, it seems, can hardly wait to craft something else for me. It’s so amazing to receive Jack’s gifts. With him, there’s no such thing as a thoughtless or last minute gift. He dreams, plans, labors on, and perfects every gift. It’s such a thrill to wear one of his bracelets or one of his necklaces. Every time I glance at my wrist or see the necklace around my neck in a reflection in the mirror, I’m reminded that my man loves me and poured his heart, hands, and time into my gifts.
If you know Jack at all, you know that he is a kind man. I love the fact that when he goes to Yazoo City to see his parents and brothers, he always stops by to see my mom and my brother, Danny, too, even when I’m not there. He smiles often, laughs easily, and puts everyone at ease with his gentle way. He’s quick to rescue and never refuses a request no matter how big, no matter how costly. Jack is as loyal as they come. If you win his friendship (he is somewhat shy and a little reluctant), you win it completely, and you win it for life.
I could go on and on about Jack. You’d tire of hearing before I could even get close to finished sharing all the wonderful and amazing things about him. So, instead of continuing, I’ll address him directly.
Jack, my love, my cowboy, you are an incredible, amazing man, and I just adore you! I’m so very proud of you and feel so very lucky - - blessed - - to be with you. You give my life the deepest meaning, and you color my world with the most brilliant colors. You’ve become such a part of me and of my life that I can neither remember life before you nor imagine it without you!
I just love how you love me! How deeply, consistently and richly you love me! I’ve never felt such complete and unconditional love before. I’ve never been blessed to go to bed each night, feeling loved, and to wake up each morning, knowing I’m loved. I can’t tell you the confidence your love gives me.
You are such a kind, sweet, patient teacher. You’ve taught me so much about faith. You’ve shown me first-hand what it is to believe in and depend on God and his provision. You’ve never once wavered in your belief that He would come through, even if it seems to be at the very last possible second. You’ve also taught me about love. What true and pure love looks like and feels like. You’ve taught me the steadfastness and acceptance of real love - - aspects of love that are completely new to me.
Jack, I just love the journey that we’re on. I love the way you take my hand. The way you brush my hair out of my eyes. That amazing way you look at me as if you’re seeing me for the very first time. That way your eyes pierce straight through mine into the very depths of my soul. I love that I finally have a cowboy to rescue me. I’d never felt rescued before. Now, with you, I never cease to feel rescued!
So many times, I think back to the very beginning of us - of our story - all those years ago. I wonder what life might have been like had we never parted. It would be easy to be regretful about all those years apart . . . to wonder - “what if?”. But, even though we didn’t have a clue, God knew, even then, that we’d meet again. And he knew that we needed our Tori, Katy, Rick, and Luke and could not have those awesome kids without a period of separation. So, rather than regret, I just choose to believe that we needed that time apart and all the ups, downs, and bumps along the road we experienced in order to be ready for each other. And, baby, I’m so ready for you - - for life with you - - now. Jack, you were the first boy I ever loved. And now you are the last man I’ll ever love. And I promise to love you like no other! I just hope that’s enough!
I first met Jack more than thirty years ago at the Forest Park swimming pool. I was just fourteen years old, enjoying the summer before my freshman year in high school. I wasn’t a good swimmer, but I loved being at the pool with my friends. I had spent the night with Melissa Hood the night before, and her mom had dropped us off at the pool for the day. Melissa was diving off the diving boards and swimming all over the pool. I was laying lazily across a raft just enjoying the day when this handsome, blonde-headed boy caught my eye. He kept swimming by me and glancing at me, offering an occasional grin. But as soon as our eyes met, he’d turn his head and swim off again in a “I’m the best swimmer here sort of way.” Finally, he swam over, draped his strong arms (he’s always had the most amazing arms!), over the opposite end of my raft, shook his wet hair out of his face, and said “Hi - I’m Jack. You’re Melissa’s friend.” Right then, my heart began to race. I was so nervous and was thinking desperately for something clever to say. But all that came out of my mouth was the infamous “Hi back” and something to the effect of “Well, I’m not exactly her only friend.”
Jack ended up hanging on the end of my raft the rest of the day. We were both so very timid and nervous. Few words but a whole lot of sheepish grins were exchanged. And, all day, Jack filled the cap from some spray can with water, and poured it over my shoulder. We talked very little and grinned rather sheepishly at each other. And I don’t really recall our parting words that day. I just know that I was so reluctant to leave the pool, fearing I’d never see Jack again.
That night, Melissa came home with me to spend the night at my house. I don’t recall exactly where but my parents went some place, leaving me and Melissa in charge of my younger brother, Brad. Lucky for me, Melissa was always good for a game or two or three hundred of Atari or Pong with Brad. Because, to my astonishment, Jack called! I spent hours on the phone with him, not knowing or caring or even thinking about where Brad was or what he might have been into. Melissa, I still owe you for keeping him entertained that night!
Anyway, that hot summer day led to a lot of firsts for me - - my first phone call from a boy! - - my first visit from a boy! - - the first time my hand was held! - - my first kiss! my first gift from a boy (a ceramic owl music box for Christmas - wish I could remember the song it played)! - - my first county fair “date”! - - my first love! - - and the first time my heart was broken!
Jack and I tried “dating” (and I use the term loosely because at 14, my dad surely wouldn’t let me leave the house with Jack) for a very short time - - six months or so. We talked on the phone for hours every night and saw each other when we could - - whenever he could drive to Eden to see me, or drop by Melissa’s to see me, or come watch me march in parades and football games. But we didn’t go to school together, and I couldn’t date yet, and, so, we just gave up on the belief that it might work. We have very different stories about the end. I remember him breaking up with me - - telling me “this just isn’t going to work.” He remembers me breaking his heart. Either way, we stopped talking altogether almost as abruptly as we had started our innocent, whirlwind romance just a few months before.
The next conversation Jack and I had was my senior year. I had just been crowned homecoming queen, and he was at the game. He had graduated high school by then but, for whatever reason, had come to Manchester’s homecoming game. I remember catching his eye - he was standing on the sidelines - and remember that, once again, that handsome, blonde-headed boy had my heart racing! I feared he wouldn’t come over to speak and, at the same time, feared he would! Finally, after everybody had wandered off, I looked up and there stood Jack, grinning that familiar grin at me. He walked over and hugged me, and my heart leapt. It leapt! I don’t remember what he said to me. I just remember hoping to hear from him again - - back then girls didn’t call boys so I couldn’t dare call him. But how I hoped he would call! He never did.
Life went on for both of us. We both married and had children. Then, about twelve years after that homecoming night, I saw Jack again. My husband and I had just moved to Tupelo after accepting jobs as attorneys in a Tupelo law firm. We had started work on the Tuesday after the Super Bowl game that year and, that Thursday, we went to a Northeast Mississippi Claims Association meeting and dinner at the Back Porch with our new boss, Dan Webb. Dan was introducing us to various insurance adjusters and claims representatives when I looked up and saw that familiar grin. To my utter surprise, I found myself standing face to face to Jack Dearman! He said “Hi again.” I said “Hi back.” Then, he kissed me on the cheek. I blushed instantly. My heart raced once more. And I heard Dan lean over to my then husband and ask, “Reckon she knows him?”
As it turned out, Jack had moved to Tupelo shortly before we did. Though we both lived in Tupelo at the same time for a year or two, I never saw Jack again while he lived there. I did run into him one other time, after he had moved to Memphis, when he returned to Tupelo for OLEPUT. I remember my twins were babies and were crawling through some sort of tunnel in the kids’ play area when I looked up and into that familiar grin.
Believe it or not, another fourteen or so years passed. Then one day, four or so years after Jack had divorced and a year or so after I had divorced, I signed up for facebook and, to my surprise, found myself staring right into that familiar grin again. Jack’s hair was dark then - not a trace of blonde left - but the twinkling eyes and sheepish 16-year-old grin were just as they always had been.
Hesitantly, I sent Jack a friend request. A day or so later, he accepted and, to my delight, in-boxed me. We flirted for a while on facebook and then, one day, he asked if he could call me with a legal question. I was a grown, 40-something-year-old woman, and yet was scared to death to give him my number. Scared he wouldn’t actually call. More scared that he would. I typed my number in the in-box message, hit send, and, I think, stopped breathing while I desperately tried to think of a clever way to answer the phone if he actually called. Within minutes, the phone rang, and I answered. “Hi again,” he said. “Hi back,” I responded. We talked and laughed and teased and flirted and remembered for over an hour. When I finally couldn’t think of any legitimate reason to hang on any longer, I bid Jack good-bye and hung up the phone. But I didn’t move for hours. I sat there at my desk, re-living every moment of that first meeting at Forest Park, that first time he took my hand, that first time he leaned over and kissed me. My head even filled with that old British Sterling scent he wore.
Jack and I continued to flirt on facebook. We text’d back and forth on occasion and, on even more rare occasion, we talked on the phone. From time to time, Jack would text “Hi.” I would text “Hi back.” And then - - nothing! A day, two days, six days - - nothing. But, about the time I’d delete him from my contacts, I’d get a “Hi again.” We talked about meeting - - Jack even said “Just say the word, and I’ll come to Tupelo” - and, then, we both retreated in fear. Ultimately, on July 1, 2009, Jack and I saw each other again, for the first time, after all those years! One look at that handsome man, and I knew there was no turning back this time. The second time we saw each other again, we sat across the table from each other at dinner, grinning our silly school girl and boy grins, and dreaming of a future. We danced around the topic and finally Jack made a comment about what we were both not saying. I looked him right in the eye and said, “you mean that I love you and I think, just possibly, I always have?” The rest, as they say, is history.
Jack and I are on the most awesome journey together. We’ve struggled through a lot of difficulties including the geographical barrier of more than 300 miles. But, we’ve had so much fun! We’ve gotten more pleasure out of the simplest things like morning hikes and photo shoots of covered bridges at magic hour. Campfires and star-gazing. Shared cups of coffee and cooking together (even took a class together at the Viking Cooking School). Rainy day movie marathons. Late night talks. Lots of reminiscing . . . We’ve discovered so much about each other and so much about ourselves through each other. We’ve loved completely, maybe for the first time, and deeply, and unconditionally, and steadfastly. We’ve shared the deepest recesses of our hearts and have finally thrown down all the barriers, all the self-preservation. We’ve become vulnerable to each other and have shared every secret, every regret, every shame - - but also every tenderness, every hope, every dream.
Jack is the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. I can’t believe God has blessed me with him (again)! He’s incredibly handsome and strong and protective. He’s good-natured, light-hearted, positive, and upbeat most of the time. Jack always finds the silver-lining; he’s the epitome of an eternal optimist. He really believes that, sometimes, good things just fall right in your lap.
Though you might not know this about Jack, he is deeply spiritual. He walks
close to God and has a deep and abiding friendship with him. He loves and respects all of God’s creation. Nothing makes him happier than to be in the great outdoors, just taking in all the beauty God made for us. He’s an avid and talented hunter but never kills just for the sake of the kill. He’s very selective in the animals (mostly deer) that he does kill and often, lowers his rifle when he could have shot.
I’ve never seen a father love his daughter more than Jack loves his daughter, Tori. He loves her totally and unconditionally and gives her the gifts of his heart, his time, and his undivided attention. I’ll never forget spending an evening with the two of them when they started reminiscing about the book Jack used to read to her every morning and a different book he used to read to her every night. They both began quoting the little story books, word for word (“Good morning Merry Sunshine, How did you wake so soon? You scared the little stars away and shined away the moon”), and just beamed as the memories clearly flooded their minds and hearts.
One thing that has surprised me the most about Jack is how quick he is to offer sincere, deep-felt apologies. I’ve never had a man take my face in his hands, look deeply into my eyes, and apologize for the slightest infraction. He clearly experiences pain himself when he realizes he’s hurt my feelings and he insists (even when I’m resistant) on making amends right then and there. At the same time, Jack is very forgiving. He’s quick and eager to accept an apology and to let me completely off the hook. He doesn’t bring up past transgressions and, I’m guessing, doesn’t even revisit them in his own mind.
Jack’s also a very talented craftsmen. He makes the most amazing things - - leather bracelets, necklaces out of arrow heads, bird houses, knives, arrows - - and he pours his heart into his work. He showers me with these gifts of love and, it seems, can hardly wait to craft something else for me. It’s so amazing to receive Jack’s gifts. With him, there’s no such thing as a thoughtless or last minute gift. He dreams, plans, labors on, and perfects every gift. It’s such a thrill to wear one of his bracelets or one of his necklaces. Every time I glance at my wrist or see the necklace around my neck in a reflection in the mirror, I’m reminded that my man loves me and poured his heart, hands, and time into my gifts.
If you know Jack at all, you know that he is a kind man. I love the fact that when he goes to Yazoo City to see his parents and brothers, he always stops by to see my mom and my brother, Danny, too, even when I’m not there. He smiles often, laughs easily, and puts everyone at ease with his gentle way. He’s quick to rescue and never refuses a request no matter how big, no matter how costly. Jack is as loyal as they come. If you win his friendship (he is somewhat shy and a little reluctant), you win it completely, and you win it for life.
I could go on and on about Jack. You’d tire of hearing before I could even get close to finished sharing all the wonderful and amazing things about him. So, instead of continuing, I’ll address him directly.
Jack, my love, my cowboy, you are an incredible, amazing man, and I just adore you! I’m so very proud of you and feel so very lucky - - blessed - - to be with you. You give my life the deepest meaning, and you color my world with the most brilliant colors. You’ve become such a part of me and of my life that I can neither remember life before you nor imagine it without you!
I just love how you love me! How deeply, consistently and richly you love me! I’ve never felt such complete and unconditional love before. I’ve never been blessed to go to bed each night, feeling loved, and to wake up each morning, knowing I’m loved. I can’t tell you the confidence your love gives me.
You are such a kind, sweet, patient teacher. You’ve taught me so much about faith. You’ve shown me first-hand what it is to believe in and depend on God and his provision. You’ve never once wavered in your belief that He would come through, even if it seems to be at the very last possible second. You’ve also taught me about love. What true and pure love looks like and feels like. You’ve taught me the steadfastness and acceptance of real love - - aspects of love that are completely new to me.
Jack, I just love the journey that we’re on. I love the way you take my hand. The way you brush my hair out of my eyes. That amazing way you look at me as if you’re seeing me for the very first time. That way your eyes pierce straight through mine into the very depths of my soul. I love that I finally have a cowboy to rescue me. I’d never felt rescued before. Now, with you, I never cease to feel rescued!
So many times, I think back to the very beginning of us - of our story - all those years ago. I wonder what life might have been like had we never parted. It would be easy to be regretful about all those years apart . . . to wonder - “what if?”. But, even though we didn’t have a clue, God knew, even then, that we’d meet again. And he knew that we needed our Tori, Katy, Rick, and Luke and could not have those awesome kids without a period of separation. So, rather than regret, I just choose to believe that we needed that time apart and all the ups, downs, and bumps along the road we experienced in order to be ready for each other. And, baby, I’m so ready for you - - for life with you - - now. Jack, you were the first boy I ever loved. And now you are the last man I’ll ever love. And I promise to love you like no other! I just hope that’s enough!
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Letter to Facebook Friends
Dear Facebook Friends,
For some reason, I scanned all of your profile pictures this morning. I guess I was feeling rather nostalgic. I just needed your pictures to take me back - back to the day we met or to some of the times we spent together.
As I scanned your pictures, I let my mind go back. I opened my long-term memory bank, and let the memories erupt. This process both delighted and saddened me. It delighted me because it brought back familiar feelings of family, friendship, warmth, love, mystery, hope. Oh the joy of re-living, for just a moment, adventures I shared with you during the various seasons of my life:
▸ nursery school at Miss Norman’s;
▸ kindergarten at First Baptist Church;
▸ Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, G.A.s and Acteens, bus trips to Holmes County State Park, and dinners-on-the-ground, and church league softball at Eden Baptist Church;
▸ more Eden days of bike rides through Eden Lane; swimming at the Vickers’ pool; making the barn at Rita’s into a clubhouse; visiting the Book-Mobile; riding on the back of Steve’s Honda to my great grandmother’s house; licking the bowl from my great grandmother’s cake-makings; trick-or-treating in Eden when Eden actually had enough families and homes to fill a trick-or-treat bag; picking cotton into an old flour bag; living right across the pasture from my grandparents and getting to see them every, single day; riding horses; playing softball at Mr. Hutto’s vacant lot; trips to the Eden stores (we actually had two stores for awhile); finally talking my brother, cousins, and their friends into letting me be the hider in hide and seek to discover, hours later when my mom came and found me, that all the boys had left our yard for someone else’s yard hours earlier while I had been thinking, all that time, that I was the best hider ever; a certain unnamed boy from Eden bouncing me completely off the trampoline at my house because I wouldn’t voluntarily get off and let him jump; speaking of the trampoline - - jumping out of the tree and onto the trampoline; jumping a ramp with my bicycle after my mom told me not to and getting in trouble when the same brother who enticed me into trying it tattled on me; getting hit in the head by a nail in the end of a board that my brother was throwing across a ditch to build a bridge; getting black stitches in my forehead following the bridge-building incident (they really clashed with my bright blue Easter dress that year);
▸ lots of cousin days with Buddy, Paul, Kim, Robyn, Tracey, and Terre ;
▸ all those Manchester years filled with sleep-overs; band practices, performances, and competitions; football games; basketball practice and games; teen center dances; gym dances; Homecoming parades and bond fires; Midnight-to-Dawns and Harvest Festivals; building homecoming floats at the old barn; dragging Grand; pulling over in the Patenotte’s parking lot; the Yazoo County fair and the state fair; tight jeans; bandannas; mood rings; class rings; polos; izods; starched button-down shirts; top-siders; Saturday Night Live; flirting; crushes; first dates; prank phone calls; sliding down the Mississippi Chemical Plant hill on the few snow days we had; jeep rides; the levee; sitting on the curb during activity period on sunny days; band camps; basketball camps; Girls State; my first car; senior parties; class day; graduation;
▸ Ole Miss days, pledging Phi Mu, fraternity swaps and formals, Winter and Spring formals, Spring Flings, grab-a-date nights at the Phi Mu house, football games, Derby Day, Red and Blue weekends, the Beacon, the Warehouse, the Gin, the square, Oxford Floral, baseball games, the Hoka, cheesecake at the Hoka , Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Hoka, the Grove, more flirting and crushes and first dates and break-ups, road trips;
▸ law school days (need I say more?);
▸ the mothering years and getting to know you through our children’s days (or your teaching our children) at Peter Cottontail, Calvary Preschool, Calvary Kindergarten, Thomas Street Elementary School, Lawndale Elementary School, Milam, TMS, and THS and all that those days entailed (classroom parties, field trips, Book Fairs, Fall Festivals, Winter Festivals, PTA, red ribbon weeks, field days, kindergarten and elementary graduations, thousands of days at City Pool for swim practice and swim meets over more than a decade now, out of town swim meets, swim banquets, fund-raisers, student of the week posters, awards days, teacher appreciation days, school plays and performances, band performances, chorus concerts, Splash and Soundwave performances and competitions, Lyric Theater practices and performances and cast parties);
▸ political days, Rotary days, and Leadership Program days;
▸ Bible Study days and days at Calvary Baptist Church filled with attending and teaching Sunday School, 8:30 am services, 1l:00 am services, my children’s baptisms, teaching Bible School, teaching Mission Friends, serving as a Children’s choir worker, serving on the property and space committee and on the safe and secure committee, taking my son to church basketball practices and games;
▸ photography days;
▸ and all those days in between the seasons.
But the walk down memory lane also saddened me. It saddened me to realize some of you are no longer a regular part of my life. I think I grew up really believing I’d somehow remain friends forever with all my friends. I didn’t take into account life - - the busyness and tragedies and heartaches of life - - and the impact it would have on friendships and relationships. I naively just trusted we’d always be close, always have something to talk about, always have hearts for each other. But then, as suddenly as we came into each others' lives, many of us somehow parted each others’ lives.
Nevertheless, I’ve been so blessed by you - - to have gotten to know you - - to have shared with you and to have grown with you - - to have loved you and been loved by you. As suggested, many of you are no longer a part of my daily life. You are now loose connections to days gone by. But I remember you. Every one of you. And I cherish the time you were a part of my daily life. I’m thankful for that time - for what you shared with me and taught me.
Some of you have surprised me (as perhaps I have you). You were faces I knew in high school but you were not the people I spent any real time with. And, yet, now you are the people I talk to most on a regular basis. How odd and yet amazing it is to have become “virtual” friends - - to learn that you were as afraid or intimidated by me as I was by you. How wonderful and amazing it’s been getting to know your hearts - to see what was behind that mask you wore and to show you what was behind the mask I wore back when we were all struggling to be who we thought we were supposed to be or should be or to just fit in and be accepted in some way. Isn’t it strange and wonderful and ironic to see that all the things that separated us then seem to unite us now?
Some of you are completely gone now. We don’t see each other. We no longer catch up on facebook. A few of you have even left this earthly world. But I see your profile picture. And I miss you. And, perhaps even more, I regret not taking the time to get to know you better while you were in my life.
Some of you I’ve recently bonded with through the tragedy of divorce. At times, we’ve shared fears, heartaches, regrets. At other times, we’ve exchanged encouraging words, pumped each other up with hopes of a brighter tomorrow, or offered tips and advice we’ve learned through the hard knocks school. I am thankful for you and for the comfort you’ve provided me. I hope I’ve provided you some comfort, too, along the way. I understand that I may never exchange another word, thought or feeling with some of you - - that God brought us together to touch each other for just a moment - - that we were really “reason friends” and that, as we both healed and moved on through life, the reason for our brief friendship ended. But I remember you, too. I always will. And I will always hope for your future - - that it returns joy and peace to you ten-fold for the hurt and disappointment you suffered through.
And one of you, a very, very special one of you, I’ve been blessed enough to have come full circle with. You were very my first love - - the first boy to ever call me on the phone - - the first boy to ever hold my hand - - the first boy to ever kiss me. And now you are my very last love - - the last man to call me on the phone - - the last man to hold my hand - - the last man to kiss me.
Oh how I’ve enjoyed my journey back with you! But the phone is ringing and jolting me back to the “now.” So I’ll wipe away the tears I’ve shed and return you to the recesses of my mind and heart - - for now. Good-bye, my Facebook Friends. To those of you who were “reason” or “season” friends, please know I do appreciate the time we had, and I do cherish the memories that remain. For you “life” friends, good-bye for now. I look forward to our next encounter.
For some reason, I scanned all of your profile pictures this morning. I guess I was feeling rather nostalgic. I just needed your pictures to take me back - back to the day we met or to some of the times we spent together.
As I scanned your pictures, I let my mind go back. I opened my long-term memory bank, and let the memories erupt. This process both delighted and saddened me. It delighted me because it brought back familiar feelings of family, friendship, warmth, love, mystery, hope. Oh the joy of re-living, for just a moment, adventures I shared with you during the various seasons of my life:
▸ nursery school at Miss Norman’s;
▸ kindergarten at First Baptist Church;
▸ Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, G.A.s and Acteens, bus trips to Holmes County State Park, and dinners-on-the-ground, and church league softball at Eden Baptist Church;
▸ more Eden days of bike rides through Eden Lane; swimming at the Vickers’ pool; making the barn at Rita’s into a clubhouse; visiting the Book-Mobile; riding on the back of Steve’s Honda to my great grandmother’s house; licking the bowl from my great grandmother’s cake-makings; trick-or-treating in Eden when Eden actually had enough families and homes to fill a trick-or-treat bag; picking cotton into an old flour bag; living right across the pasture from my grandparents and getting to see them every, single day; riding horses; playing softball at Mr. Hutto’s vacant lot; trips to the Eden stores (we actually had two stores for awhile); finally talking my brother, cousins, and their friends into letting me be the hider in hide and seek to discover, hours later when my mom came and found me, that all the boys had left our yard for someone else’s yard hours earlier while I had been thinking, all that time, that I was the best hider ever; a certain unnamed boy from Eden bouncing me completely off the trampoline at my house because I wouldn’t voluntarily get off and let him jump; speaking of the trampoline - - jumping out of the tree and onto the trampoline; jumping a ramp with my bicycle after my mom told me not to and getting in trouble when the same brother who enticed me into trying it tattled on me; getting hit in the head by a nail in the end of a board that my brother was throwing across a ditch to build a bridge; getting black stitches in my forehead following the bridge-building incident (they really clashed with my bright blue Easter dress that year);
▸ lots of cousin days with Buddy, Paul, Kim, Robyn, Tracey, and Terre ;
▸ all those Manchester years filled with sleep-overs; band practices, performances, and competitions; football games; basketball practice and games; teen center dances; gym dances; Homecoming parades and bond fires; Midnight-to-Dawns and Harvest Festivals; building homecoming floats at the old barn; dragging Grand; pulling over in the Patenotte’s parking lot; the Yazoo County fair and the state fair; tight jeans; bandannas; mood rings; class rings; polos; izods; starched button-down shirts; top-siders; Saturday Night Live; flirting; crushes; first dates; prank phone calls; sliding down the Mississippi Chemical Plant hill on the few snow days we had; jeep rides; the levee; sitting on the curb during activity period on sunny days; band camps; basketball camps; Girls State; my first car; senior parties; class day; graduation;
▸ Ole Miss days, pledging Phi Mu, fraternity swaps and formals, Winter and Spring formals, Spring Flings, grab-a-date nights at the Phi Mu house, football games, Derby Day, Red and Blue weekends, the Beacon, the Warehouse, the Gin, the square, Oxford Floral, baseball games, the Hoka, cheesecake at the Hoka , Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Hoka, the Grove, more flirting and crushes and first dates and break-ups, road trips;
▸ law school days (need I say more?);
▸ the mothering years and getting to know you through our children’s days (or your teaching our children) at Peter Cottontail, Calvary Preschool, Calvary Kindergarten, Thomas Street Elementary School, Lawndale Elementary School, Milam, TMS, and THS and all that those days entailed (classroom parties, field trips, Book Fairs, Fall Festivals, Winter Festivals, PTA, red ribbon weeks, field days, kindergarten and elementary graduations, thousands of days at City Pool for swim practice and swim meets over more than a decade now, out of town swim meets, swim banquets, fund-raisers, student of the week posters, awards days, teacher appreciation days, school plays and performances, band performances, chorus concerts, Splash and Soundwave performances and competitions, Lyric Theater practices and performances and cast parties);
▸ political days, Rotary days, and Leadership Program days;
▸ Bible Study days and days at Calvary Baptist Church filled with attending and teaching Sunday School, 8:30 am services, 1l:00 am services, my children’s baptisms, teaching Bible School, teaching Mission Friends, serving as a Children’s choir worker, serving on the property and space committee and on the safe and secure committee, taking my son to church basketball practices and games;
▸ photography days;
▸ and all those days in between the seasons.
But the walk down memory lane also saddened me. It saddened me to realize some of you are no longer a regular part of my life. I think I grew up really believing I’d somehow remain friends forever with all my friends. I didn’t take into account life - - the busyness and tragedies and heartaches of life - - and the impact it would have on friendships and relationships. I naively just trusted we’d always be close, always have something to talk about, always have hearts for each other. But then, as suddenly as we came into each others' lives, many of us somehow parted each others’ lives.
Nevertheless, I’ve been so blessed by you - - to have gotten to know you - - to have shared with you and to have grown with you - - to have loved you and been loved by you. As suggested, many of you are no longer a part of my daily life. You are now loose connections to days gone by. But I remember you. Every one of you. And I cherish the time you were a part of my daily life. I’m thankful for that time - for what you shared with me and taught me.
Some of you have surprised me (as perhaps I have you). You were faces I knew in high school but you were not the people I spent any real time with. And, yet, now you are the people I talk to most on a regular basis. How odd and yet amazing it is to have become “virtual” friends - - to learn that you were as afraid or intimidated by me as I was by you. How wonderful and amazing it’s been getting to know your hearts - to see what was behind that mask you wore and to show you what was behind the mask I wore back when we were all struggling to be who we thought we were supposed to be or should be or to just fit in and be accepted in some way. Isn’t it strange and wonderful and ironic to see that all the things that separated us then seem to unite us now?
Some of you are completely gone now. We don’t see each other. We no longer catch up on facebook. A few of you have even left this earthly world. But I see your profile picture. And I miss you. And, perhaps even more, I regret not taking the time to get to know you better while you were in my life.
Some of you I’ve recently bonded with through the tragedy of divorce. At times, we’ve shared fears, heartaches, regrets. At other times, we’ve exchanged encouraging words, pumped each other up with hopes of a brighter tomorrow, or offered tips and advice we’ve learned through the hard knocks school. I am thankful for you and for the comfort you’ve provided me. I hope I’ve provided you some comfort, too, along the way. I understand that I may never exchange another word, thought or feeling with some of you - - that God brought us together to touch each other for just a moment - - that we were really “reason friends” and that, as we both healed and moved on through life, the reason for our brief friendship ended. But I remember you, too. I always will. And I will always hope for your future - - that it returns joy and peace to you ten-fold for the hurt and disappointment you suffered through.
And one of you, a very, very special one of you, I’ve been blessed enough to have come full circle with. You were very my first love - - the first boy to ever call me on the phone - - the first boy to ever hold my hand - - the first boy to ever kiss me. And now you are my very last love - - the last man to call me on the phone - - the last man to hold my hand - - the last man to kiss me.
Oh how I’ve enjoyed my journey back with you! But the phone is ringing and jolting me back to the “now.” So I’ll wipe away the tears I’ve shed and return you to the recesses of my mind and heart - - for now. Good-bye, my Facebook Friends. To those of you who were “reason” or “season” friends, please know I do appreciate the time we had, and I do cherish the memories that remain. For you “life” friends, good-bye for now. I look forward to our next encounter.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Greetings from our new house!
I loved today! God was just all over it! It started with furniture being delivered and set up in my new house, the clouds breaking, the sky turning brilliant blue, and the sun kissing the day. It included getting to spend a lot of one-on-one time with my precious daughter in the new house doing what girls do best - - arranging and re-arranging furniture - - and, as you might guess, deciding we really liked it best the way we had it first! It also included good news for Jack (yay!) and, ultimately, getting my boys over to the new house, too. The kids and I are still staying at the Laurelwood house this week. But, we’ve been trekking to the new house each day to take a few more items over and, tonight, we’re just hanging out here. To my delight, the kids all want to hang out here until bedtime. And Katy’s suggested a sleep-over here even though we’ll have to get up super early in the morning if we do to go back to the Laurelwood house to get ready for school and work.
Now, I hope you noticed I used the word “house” and not “home.” Well, here’s why - - This summer I really began to long for a home - a new home. I had grown weary from rotating in and out of the Laurelwood house and, frankly, it ceased to feel like my house three years ago. Like a switch thrown to “off,” that house quit feeling like my house the minute my ex and I separated and began the divorce process. I love my kids (God knows I do!) and miss them and long for them and even cry for them when it’s not my week with them. But I had begun to dread returning to the Laurelwood house. The only greater dread was having to leave it so the kids’ dad could enter to spend “his” week with the kids there. Well, a couple of new girlfriends suggested that the environment had become toxic to me and in a quiet and gentle way suggested that I make a move. At first, I thought “no way.” “I can’t disrupt my kids’ routine again. I’ll just continue to rotate in and out of this house and continue to co-own it with their dad even if it kills me.” But, I finally felt led to make some kind of move and ultimately began searching for a home.
What I longed for most was a “home” - not a “house” but a “home.” I wanted a place that would be warm and inviting and happy for my children - a place completely free from bad or sad feelings - - completely free from tension - - completely free from loss and from broken dreams. I vowed that I would find such a place and that, with God, I’d turn the place into a haven for my children (and myself). I dreamed of my babies literally running to this new home at the end of the day. I imagined them walking in, weary and tired and maybe even tearful from their day in the world. And I delighted in the hope that, in the new home, they would feel sudden and instant relief the moment they crossed the threshold - - that they would settle in and that peace itself would settle in all over them.
I began to pray urgently for a new home. I looked at a number of houses but, over time, became a little disenchanted with my dream. I began to see that the house I could afford was not the house of my dreams.
Finally, when it looked like there would be no new house, God did two amazing things for me. First, he placed a message on my heart - just as clear as if he’d spoken the words right out loud to me, he told my heart “Baby,” (yes! My God calls me “Baby” - so there!) if you want a house, I’ll give you a house. BUT it won’t be your home. I AM your home.” And, then, as soon as that message sunk in real good and real deep, he placed a precious little house right in my hands - - a nicer house than any I’d seen - - small but really nice - - new construction - - nice little lot with a small patio and a yard - - four bedrooms so each of the kids would still have a room of their own - - and two bathrooms - a girls’ bathroom and a boys’ bathroom. And, if all of this weren’t enough, to my surprise and delight, the family right next door is a precious family that we already know from the church we all used to attend. A wonderful mommy and daddy and three beautiful little girls!
Anyway, God did give me that house. But I haven’t forgotten his message. Over and over, as Jack and I moved things to the new “house,” and later as the kids and I moved additional things to the new “house,” and now as I prepare to make the final haul with the big Penske truck this weekend to the new house, I keep telling myself “Girl,” (I’m not as crazy about me as God is) “This is a beautiful new house, BUT it ain’t your home! God is your home! God, himself, is your home! THE God of THE whole universe is your home!”
Finally, I am praying all over and around this house. Today, I even stood on the front porch, placed my hand on the front door, and asked God right out loud to keep evil from ever crossing the threshold and to bless all the people who do cross the threshold. And I’m asking you to pray over this house too. Pray that it will become a haven for my kids. Pray that they will always feel safe here. Pray that they will yearn to retreat here when the world has been cold and cruel. Pray that they will feel blessed and protected and loved and safe every time they cross the threshold. And then come see us in our new house!
Now, I hope you noticed I used the word “house” and not “home.” Well, here’s why - - This summer I really began to long for a home - a new home. I had grown weary from rotating in and out of the Laurelwood house and, frankly, it ceased to feel like my house three years ago. Like a switch thrown to “off,” that house quit feeling like my house the minute my ex and I separated and began the divorce process. I love my kids (God knows I do!) and miss them and long for them and even cry for them when it’s not my week with them. But I had begun to dread returning to the Laurelwood house. The only greater dread was having to leave it so the kids’ dad could enter to spend “his” week with the kids there. Well, a couple of new girlfriends suggested that the environment had become toxic to me and in a quiet and gentle way suggested that I make a move. At first, I thought “no way.” “I can’t disrupt my kids’ routine again. I’ll just continue to rotate in and out of this house and continue to co-own it with their dad even if it kills me.” But, I finally felt led to make some kind of move and ultimately began searching for a home.
What I longed for most was a “home” - not a “house” but a “home.” I wanted a place that would be warm and inviting and happy for my children - a place completely free from bad or sad feelings - - completely free from tension - - completely free from loss and from broken dreams. I vowed that I would find such a place and that, with God, I’d turn the place into a haven for my children (and myself). I dreamed of my babies literally running to this new home at the end of the day. I imagined them walking in, weary and tired and maybe even tearful from their day in the world. And I delighted in the hope that, in the new home, they would feel sudden and instant relief the moment they crossed the threshold - - that they would settle in and that peace itself would settle in all over them.
I began to pray urgently for a new home. I looked at a number of houses but, over time, became a little disenchanted with my dream. I began to see that the house I could afford was not the house of my dreams.
Finally, when it looked like there would be no new house, God did two amazing things for me. First, he placed a message on my heart - just as clear as if he’d spoken the words right out loud to me, he told my heart “Baby,” (yes! My God calls me “Baby” - so there!) if you want a house, I’ll give you a house. BUT it won’t be your home. I AM your home.” And, then, as soon as that message sunk in real good and real deep, he placed a precious little house right in my hands - - a nicer house than any I’d seen - - small but really nice - - new construction - - nice little lot with a small patio and a yard - - four bedrooms so each of the kids would still have a room of their own - - and two bathrooms - a girls’ bathroom and a boys’ bathroom. And, if all of this weren’t enough, to my surprise and delight, the family right next door is a precious family that we already know from the church we all used to attend. A wonderful mommy and daddy and three beautiful little girls!
Anyway, God did give me that house. But I haven’t forgotten his message. Over and over, as Jack and I moved things to the new “house,” and later as the kids and I moved additional things to the new “house,” and now as I prepare to make the final haul with the big Penske truck this weekend to the new house, I keep telling myself “Girl,” (I’m not as crazy about me as God is) “This is a beautiful new house, BUT it ain’t your home! God is your home! God, himself, is your home! THE God of THE whole universe is your home!”
Finally, I am praying all over and around this house. Today, I even stood on the front porch, placed my hand on the front door, and asked God right out loud to keep evil from ever crossing the threshold and to bless all the people who do cross the threshold. And I’m asking you to pray over this house too. Pray that it will become a haven for my kids. Pray that they will always feel safe here. Pray that they will yearn to retreat here when the world has been cold and cruel. Pray that they will feel blessed and protected and loved and safe every time they cross the threshold. And then come see us in our new house!
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