This morning my dear, dear grandson woke up with a terrible diaper rash. He was screaming, my daughter was in tears not sure what to do. We promptly put him in a bath with baking soda. The crying stopped, the tears vanished. At the moment, he is having his 4th bath today. As I pondered the situation as a whole, I became very thankful for little things in life.
Sixteen years ago, a friend and I stood in my kitchen. My baby daughter had a diaper rash and was screaming. I felt so helpless. My friend told me to give her a bath in baking soda. I was doubtful. "Won't baking soda, like salt, sting and burn?"
"No," she replied. She began to make my baby a bath in the kitchen sink, while retrieving the baking soda from my cupboard and mixing it into the warm water. What a relief when I set her in the sink and her screaming immediately stopped.
Many years later, this helpful advice of a friend was soothing yet another baby. How many people have come into my life and deposited wisdom, advice, and so many other things that have made a difference? So many who are no longer in my life, but just passed through, and others who are still so very dear to me. I thought of the lady who taught me to make homemade bread and how to "properly" knead the dough. Recently, I had to borrow my daughter's car to take another one to school. I was so thankful for the person who taught me to drive a stickshift...And let me tell you, I have a much better perspective today. I am so thankful for all of the people the Lord has brought into and out of my life. And I am thankful for all of you who have shared your lives through the internet-bringing a smile, a laugh, a tear, a word of wisdom...so much. I am so blessed. I hope you will take time today and remember how blessed you are by the people who have touched your life.
(I ran across this in my drawer. I wrote it 3 years ago when I was writing out a Christmas card to the friend who mixed up the baking soda bath. So I decided to share it here today.)
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Scented
As I sit typing on my keyboard, I find myself wanting a big cinnamon bun. MMmmmm...I breathe in and catch a faint scent of that delicious cinnamon. I get back to what I am working on, when it seems that warm cinnamon fragrance wafts by my nostrils igniting my senses and making me hungry again. Where is that enticing odor coming from? Me.
I keep a sugar bowl filled with a mixture of sugar, powdered sugar, and cinnamon. I make big, thick slices of french toast and sprinkle this on top. It tastes better than a freshly baked donut. I was looking for something in the cupboard and moved the sugar bowl to the top shelf. Somehow, it came tumbling out. In my attempt to catch it, I managed to not only miss it causing it to crash and break, but the grainy sugar went down the front of me and down my blouse. Like I mentioned, I can still smell cinnamon, along with feeling an occasional sticky spot. I think I'm going to make cinnamon rolls for breakfast tomorrow.
I keep a sugar bowl filled with a mixture of sugar, powdered sugar, and cinnamon. I make big, thick slices of french toast and sprinkle this on top. It tastes better than a freshly baked donut. I was looking for something in the cupboard and moved the sugar bowl to the top shelf. Somehow, it came tumbling out. In my attempt to catch it, I managed to not only miss it causing it to crash and break, but the grainy sugar went down the front of me and down my blouse. Like I mentioned, I can still smell cinnamon, along with feeling an occasional sticky spot. I think I'm going to make cinnamon rolls for breakfast tomorrow.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Bored
I was at the store and one of my kids sent a text message to my phone. This is what it said:
He's bored without you!
Yes, that is Michael, my darling husband. Looks like he fell asleep in the chair. I guess he really did get bored in my absence. See? I told you that we have fun when we are together and he must have missed me terribly to fall asleep.
He's bored without you!
Yes, that is Michael, my darling husband. Looks like he fell asleep in the chair. I guess he really did get bored in my absence. See? I told you that we have fun when we are together and he must have missed me terribly to fall asleep.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Color
I am fascinated by colors. Just like music, colors create mood, ambiance. There just seems to be life in color. Could it be that we were each created with our own special color?
Could it be that:
I am yellow. Michael is red. Together a fiery sunset orange. The colors are so blended, you can no longer tell where the red, yellow, or orange begins.
Do you see where I am going? Yes, we are each a very unique color but were created to blend when we are married. As in the sunset, there are distinct colors, but the end goal is to see the blended color all as one. We are still unique, but in our marriage what God is trying to reveal to the world is the orange. Sometimes I want to be just yellow and I resist. But life is so much better in the blended part.
"For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh; so then they are no longer two, but one flesh." (Mark 10:7-8)
Could it be that:
I am yellow. Michael is red. Together a fiery sunset orange. The colors are so blended, you can no longer tell where the red, yellow, or orange begins.
Do you see where I am going? Yes, we are each a very unique color but were created to blend when we are married. As in the sunset, there are distinct colors, but the end goal is to see the blended color all as one. We are still unique, but in our marriage what God is trying to reveal to the world is the orange. Sometimes I want to be just yellow and I resist. But life is so much better in the blended part.
"For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh; so then they are no longer two, but one flesh." (Mark 10:7-8)
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Happy 22nd Birthday
Happy 22nd Birthday to Christopher (a little late)
While in Arizona we celebrated Christopher's birthday. I've been a little slow updating, but still wanted to make a Happy Birthday post.
I figured out the other day, son, that you are exactly half my age. This is the only year that this will be true. I also figured out, that means you are the age I was when I gave birth to you. So happy 22nd!
I remember when you had already mastered the art of teasing your sister before your 2nd birthday. I knew right then and there that boys were wired differently than girls.
I remember when you wanted Nickelodean shoes. They were bright red. The next day you came home from school and said they didn't fit. I took you back to the store and the gentleman rechecked them. Then he turned to you and queried, "you don't really like these do you?" Sheepishly, you admitted it was true. Someone at school had made fun of you and you never wanted to wear them again. I learned how powerful peer pressure was and how early it began.
I remember the first trip to the Emergency Room. You'd found some Advil in my purse you thought were M&M's and decided to munch a few. I should have known then, that as a mother of a son, I'd make many more trips to the emergency room. I learned wound care after stitches, how to keep a cast from getting wet, that broken collar bones look real cool on ex-rays. And I learned to pray quick prayers, with my heart beating wildly in my chest and finding I could be calm in an emergency.
I remember taking our first family photos and in every single picture you were making a face or silly pose. That should have been a clue that you had a gift for humor and we'd find ourselves laughing nearly every day at the dinner table as you regaled us with tales.
I remember the phone calls from girls that I sort of freaked out about. I was more than shocked that 6 and 7 year old girls knew how to flirt. I learned that even boys needed to protect their hearts.
I remember when you were in the 6th grade and I walked into your school. You wanted to die of embarrassment and tried to slide under the table. I was learning that little boys grow up and needed space of their own.
I remember in high school when you'd wrap your arms around me and give me a hug-even out in public. I learned that it was ok to be your mom again.
I remember how appreciative you were about everything, from telling me "you're a good cooker" as a preschooler until...well, it continues. I learned you are very articulate in expressing your gratitude in even the smallest things, but also how important words are to you. I hope you will always have people in your life who value and appreciate you for all that you are and express the same appreciation you so freely give. There is so much more I could say, but since this isn't a book, I'll just say thank-you for being the kind of son any mom would be proud of and yes, you are my favorite son!
While in Arizona we celebrated Christopher's birthday. I've been a little slow updating, but still wanted to make a Happy Birthday post.
I figured out the other day, son, that you are exactly half my age. This is the only year that this will be true. I also figured out, that means you are the age I was when I gave birth to you. So happy 22nd!
I remember when you had already mastered the art of teasing your sister before your 2nd birthday. I knew right then and there that boys were wired differently than girls.
I remember when you wanted Nickelodean shoes. They were bright red. The next day you came home from school and said they didn't fit. I took you back to the store and the gentleman rechecked them. Then he turned to you and queried, "you don't really like these do you?" Sheepishly, you admitted it was true. Someone at school had made fun of you and you never wanted to wear them again. I learned how powerful peer pressure was and how early it began.
I remember the first trip to the Emergency Room. You'd found some Advil in my purse you thought were M&M's and decided to munch a few. I should have known then, that as a mother of a son, I'd make many more trips to the emergency room. I learned wound care after stitches, how to keep a cast from getting wet, that broken collar bones look real cool on ex-rays. And I learned to pray quick prayers, with my heart beating wildly in my chest and finding I could be calm in an emergency.
I remember taking our first family photos and in every single picture you were making a face or silly pose. That should have been a clue that you had a gift for humor and we'd find ourselves laughing nearly every day at the dinner table as you regaled us with tales.
I remember the phone calls from girls that I sort of freaked out about. I was more than shocked that 6 and 7 year old girls knew how to flirt. I learned that even boys needed to protect their hearts.
I remember when you were in the 6th grade and I walked into your school. You wanted to die of embarrassment and tried to slide under the table. I was learning that little boys grow up and needed space of their own.
I remember in high school when you'd wrap your arms around me and give me a hug-even out in public. I learned that it was ok to be your mom again.
I remember how appreciative you were about everything, from telling me "you're a good cooker" as a preschooler until...well, it continues. I learned you are very articulate in expressing your gratitude in even the smallest things, but also how important words are to you. I hope you will always have people in your life who value and appreciate you for all that you are and express the same appreciation you so freely give. There is so much more I could say, but since this isn't a book, I'll just say thank-you for being the kind of son any mom would be proud of and yes, you are my favorite son!
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Therapy
My grandson, Ethan, has started horseback riding therapy. I am sure there is a more official name, but it is riding a horse. He has been very motivated and within the first few minutes began signing "walk on" to the horse since he can't say it. He doesn't have his glasses this week as he fell and broke them, but doesn't he look so very proud of himself?
I am so thankful for God's creation. Ethan loves animals and the first time he crawled was trying to reach the dog, as were his first steps. The first word he signed was "dog." I'm hoping one day he can get a service dog to be his constant companion. I know that would be heaven for him.
I am so thankful for God's creation. Ethan loves animals and the first time he crawled was trying to reach the dog, as were his first steps. The first word he signed was "dog." I'm hoping one day he can get a service dog to be his constant companion. I know that would be heaven for him.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
True Story
In case anyone was wondering, the previous two posts are true stories that happened 30 years ago. The girl was left wanting to be clean and whole, but also desperate for someone to love her and find worth in her. Unfortunately those two desires seemed to conflict with each other. The more she did to try to obtain love, the more unlovely she felt, the more broken and hurt she became. It created a downward spiral in her life for 8 years. By the time she was 22, she was married to her 2nd husband and expecting her 2nd child.
She'd attempted to pray but found the door to heaven tightly shut. (She didn't realize that in order to open that door she had to go through with Jesus.) She went to her former pastor. He didn't seem to have a clue how to help. His answer was for the girl to think of a book in the bible. (She wished that somewhere along the way she'd memorized the books of the bible, because outside of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, she couldn't think of any other books.) She blurted one of them out and picked out a number. Together they read the passage of scripture, but none of it seemed to apply. The pastor was looking in the right direction, but had nothing real to offer her.
She went to see another pastor to confess all of her sins, hoping to find forgiveness. Again, she went away empty. She tried to read her bible, but everything seemed a blur. The girl was losing hope fast. She visited several churches. In one, they pinned a giant ribbon on her dress with the word VISITOR printed on it. She felt like a prize at the county fair. At least she couldn't blend in that day. During the service she blushed when all of the visitors were told to stand so everyone could see them and greet them after the service. When it was all over, she sat in the car with her almost 3 year old. Tears ran down her face. She couldn't believe nobody, not 1 single person had introduced themselves or even said hello. She was ashamed. She knew why they didn't talk to her. They thought she was an unwed mother and pregnant again. They knew her shame and nobody wanted to be around her.
But this story has a happy ending. The girl ventured out one last time. She visited one more church. The people were very friendly. Towards the beginning of the service, the Pastor instructed everyone to greet those around them. Feeling very awkward, the girl just stood there, until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and a boisterous woman grabbed her and hugged her tightly to her chest. She didn't let go right away. She hugged her longer. Finally she pulled back. "Hi, I'm Carol! I am so happy to meet you. I am so glad you are here, and aren't you the most beautiful pregnant lady I've ever seen." After the service, the two exchanged phone numbers. Carol invited her over for coffee. Within the month, not only were the two good friends, but Carol shared with her the secret to feeling clean again, how much she was loved and the answer to her loneliness. She explained the simplicity of the gospel message and I was born again.
I was given a new identity. The slate was wiped clean. I was no longer bound to the shame of the past or desperate for love. I became a beloved daughter. I am a partner with Jesus and nothing can separate me from His love. Twenty-two years later, He still loves me. He still amazes me beyond words. Our relationship has taken some adventurous twists and turns. I learn new things about God all of the time. The relationship grows the way all relationships do, by spending time with one another. I enjoy sharing the secrets and desires in my heart, my burdens and cares. I've learned to listen to Him share the same. And the funny part? The more I let Him get to know me, He still loves me the same. The more I know about Him, the more I love Him.
She'd attempted to pray but found the door to heaven tightly shut. (She didn't realize that in order to open that door she had to go through with Jesus.) She went to her former pastor. He didn't seem to have a clue how to help. His answer was for the girl to think of a book in the bible. (She wished that somewhere along the way she'd memorized the books of the bible, because outside of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, she couldn't think of any other books.) She blurted one of them out and picked out a number. Together they read the passage of scripture, but none of it seemed to apply. The pastor was looking in the right direction, but had nothing real to offer her.
She went to see another pastor to confess all of her sins, hoping to find forgiveness. Again, she went away empty. She tried to read her bible, but everything seemed a blur. The girl was losing hope fast. She visited several churches. In one, they pinned a giant ribbon on her dress with the word VISITOR printed on it. She felt like a prize at the county fair. At least she couldn't blend in that day. During the service she blushed when all of the visitors were told to stand so everyone could see them and greet them after the service. When it was all over, she sat in the car with her almost 3 year old. Tears ran down her face. She couldn't believe nobody, not 1 single person had introduced themselves or even said hello. She was ashamed. She knew why they didn't talk to her. They thought she was an unwed mother and pregnant again. They knew her shame and nobody wanted to be around her.
But this story has a happy ending. The girl ventured out one last time. She visited one more church. The people were very friendly. Towards the beginning of the service, the Pastor instructed everyone to greet those around them. Feeling very awkward, the girl just stood there, until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and a boisterous woman grabbed her and hugged her tightly to her chest. She didn't let go right away. She hugged her longer. Finally she pulled back. "Hi, I'm Carol! I am so happy to meet you. I am so glad you are here, and aren't you the most beautiful pregnant lady I've ever seen." After the service, the two exchanged phone numbers. Carol invited her over for coffee. Within the month, not only were the two good friends, but Carol shared with her the secret to feeling clean again, how much she was loved and the answer to her loneliness. She explained the simplicity of the gospel message and I was born again.
I was given a new identity. The slate was wiped clean. I was no longer bound to the shame of the past or desperate for love. I became a beloved daughter. I am a partner with Jesus and nothing can separate me from His love. Twenty-two years later, He still loves me. He still amazes me beyond words. Our relationship has taken some adventurous twists and turns. I learn new things about God all of the time. The relationship grows the way all relationships do, by spending time with one another. I enjoy sharing the secrets and desires in my heart, my burdens and cares. I've learned to listen to Him share the same. And the funny part? The more I let Him get to know me, He still loves me the same. The more I know about Him, the more I love Him.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
PART TWO
The summer before high school, Barbara moved to a nearby town. The girl still didn't have a lot of friends. Her parents would sometimes allow her to spend the weekend with Barbara. During one weekend the girls, as usual, hung out at a nearby bowling alley. That was where the girl met Joe and Kevin.
At first the girl did not care for them at all. They were obnoxious and crude and talked awful. But because there wasn't much to do at Barbara's and her parents didn't care what the girls did, they ended up spending quite a bit of time with Joe and Kevin that weekend. When the girls finally decided to go in that night, Joe leaned in and kissed the girl. She went away feeling very strange. Why did he kiss her? Did he like her? And what kind of kiss was that? She'd never had attention like that from any boy. It was sort of exciting, but very scary at the same time. The girl went to sleep with a mix of emotions.
The following week Joe asked her out. She was only 14 and Joe was 17, but she begged her father to let her go. It was just a drive-in movie and Kevin and Barbara were going also. It took some doing, but she convinced her father to let her go.
Joe and Kevin picked her up at the appointed time. As they drove towards the next town the girl was excited. She'd never driven in a car without an adult. The boys were smoking and kept offering it to the girl. She knew they weren't smoking regular cigarettes. She was afraid Joe wouldn't like her anymore if she didn't do it. He would think she was a baby. Joe pulled the car over and switched places with Kevin.
"When are we picking up Barbara?" The girl asked.
"She can't make it. We are stopping by another friend's house." Joe sat next to the girl and began to kiss her. She began to feel loved. But the feelings quickly began to disentigrate into confusion when Joe began to talk about having sex.
Back when she was in confirmation class, the pastor had discussed the ten commandments. They discussed how to say no to someone who wanted to have sex with you, give you drugs and such. But the girl was totally unprepared for this. She'd imagined walking down the street and some hoodlum asking her if she wanted to do drugs. She imagined herself emphatically telling him no. She never thought it would be someone she wanted to like her. She also had no idea she would enjoy kissing a boy when the subject of sex came up and she'd have the same confused feelings.
Finally, when she could manage the pressure no longer, she blurted out, "I can't do those things. It is Saturday night and I'm going to church tomorrow." The boys laughed.
The car stopped on a dark street and the 3 kids went into the house. There was a party going on with no adults in sight. The air was hazy with smoke. The girl knew the smell well enough to know it wasn't just cigarrette smoke. She sat on the couch with the boys. She was made fun of by others there when Joe told them she wouldn't get high with them. Several of them blew smoke in her face, trying to get her to inhale. She was beginning to feel light-headed and was trying her best to figure a way out of the situation. She looked around for a phone. Maybe there was a phone in a bedroom. She could ask to use the restroom and sneak in and call her parents to come get her. But the girl had no idea where she was. She didn't know the address or even the street name or whose house they were at.
She was feeling so disoriented and scared. She envisioned the next day's headlines in the newspaper: Girl dies from smoking pot. Her parents would think she used drugs and would be disgraced even though it wasn't true. The girl excused herself to go to the restroom where she thought she might be sick.
When she came out, the house was quiet. Nobody was there except Joe. "What's going on?" She asked. "They all left for a bit. Come in here, I want to show you something." Joe took her into another room and closed the door. It was then the girl realized his intentions. "Please Joe, I don't want to do this. I want to go home now."
Joe persisted. He ignored her pleas. She tried to hang onto her clothing as he forced it off. The girl wondered if she could escape and run out the door. Where would she go? How could she get help? She knew none of the kids who'd been there would do anything about it. If she only knew the neighborhood, or where someone lived that she could trust. But she still had no idea where she was, except in another town on a dark street. She began to cry feeling totally helpless to break free and also from the physical pain and burning.
After awhile, she knew it was over. Joe got up and left the room. The girl quickly pulled on her clothes. She saw blood on the bed. She'd never felt so dirty and used in all her life. Now who was going to love her? Nobody would want her. She would be destined to marry Joe since he was the one who ruined her.
The house filled with noise again. The girl saw Kevin and asked him if he'd take her home. He did. The girl never told her parents what happened. She was too ashamed. When she'd begged her father to let her go out with Joe, she'd asked, "don't you trust me?" How could he trust her when she let this happen? It didn't matter that she'd had no way to imagine the situation she'd been in, but it was her fault anyway. So the girl began high school feeling like damaged merchandise.
At first the girl did not care for them at all. They were obnoxious and crude and talked awful. But because there wasn't much to do at Barbara's and her parents didn't care what the girls did, they ended up spending quite a bit of time with Joe and Kevin that weekend. When the girls finally decided to go in that night, Joe leaned in and kissed the girl. She went away feeling very strange. Why did he kiss her? Did he like her? And what kind of kiss was that? She'd never had attention like that from any boy. It was sort of exciting, but very scary at the same time. The girl went to sleep with a mix of emotions.
The following week Joe asked her out. She was only 14 and Joe was 17, but she begged her father to let her go. It was just a drive-in movie and Kevin and Barbara were going also. It took some doing, but she convinced her father to let her go.
Joe and Kevin picked her up at the appointed time. As they drove towards the next town the girl was excited. She'd never driven in a car without an adult. The boys were smoking and kept offering it to the girl. She knew they weren't smoking regular cigarettes. She was afraid Joe wouldn't like her anymore if she didn't do it. He would think she was a baby. Joe pulled the car over and switched places with Kevin.
"When are we picking up Barbara?" The girl asked.
"She can't make it. We are stopping by another friend's house." Joe sat next to the girl and began to kiss her. She began to feel loved. But the feelings quickly began to disentigrate into confusion when Joe began to talk about having sex.
Back when she was in confirmation class, the pastor had discussed the ten commandments. They discussed how to say no to someone who wanted to have sex with you, give you drugs and such. But the girl was totally unprepared for this. She'd imagined walking down the street and some hoodlum asking her if she wanted to do drugs. She imagined herself emphatically telling him no. She never thought it would be someone she wanted to like her. She also had no idea she would enjoy kissing a boy when the subject of sex came up and she'd have the same confused feelings.
Finally, when she could manage the pressure no longer, she blurted out, "I can't do those things. It is Saturday night and I'm going to church tomorrow." The boys laughed.
The car stopped on a dark street and the 3 kids went into the house. There was a party going on with no adults in sight. The air was hazy with smoke. The girl knew the smell well enough to know it wasn't just cigarrette smoke. She sat on the couch with the boys. She was made fun of by others there when Joe told them she wouldn't get high with them. Several of them blew smoke in her face, trying to get her to inhale. She was beginning to feel light-headed and was trying her best to figure a way out of the situation. She looked around for a phone. Maybe there was a phone in a bedroom. She could ask to use the restroom and sneak in and call her parents to come get her. But the girl had no idea where she was. She didn't know the address or even the street name or whose house they were at.
She was feeling so disoriented and scared. She envisioned the next day's headlines in the newspaper: Girl dies from smoking pot. Her parents would think she used drugs and would be disgraced even though it wasn't true. The girl excused herself to go to the restroom where she thought she might be sick.
When she came out, the house was quiet. Nobody was there except Joe. "What's going on?" She asked. "They all left for a bit. Come in here, I want to show you something." Joe took her into another room and closed the door. It was then the girl realized his intentions. "Please Joe, I don't want to do this. I want to go home now."
Joe persisted. He ignored her pleas. She tried to hang onto her clothing as he forced it off. The girl wondered if she could escape and run out the door. Where would she go? How could she get help? She knew none of the kids who'd been there would do anything about it. If she only knew the neighborhood, or where someone lived that she could trust. But she still had no idea where she was, except in another town on a dark street. She began to cry feeling totally helpless to break free and also from the physical pain and burning.
After awhile, she knew it was over. Joe got up and left the room. The girl quickly pulled on her clothes. She saw blood on the bed. She'd never felt so dirty and used in all her life. Now who was going to love her? Nobody would want her. She would be destined to marry Joe since he was the one who ruined her.
The house filled with noise again. The girl saw Kevin and asked him if he'd take her home. He did. The girl never told her parents what happened. She was too ashamed. When she'd begged her father to let her go out with Joe, she'd asked, "don't you trust me?" How could he trust her when she let this happen? It didn't matter that she'd had no way to imagine the situation she'd been in, but it was her fault anyway. So the girl began high school feeling like damaged merchandise.
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