There are some books that are like old friends, their words are comfortable and familiar. For me, The Hiding Place, a story of Corrie Ten Boom is one of these books. The story of Corrie, her sister Betsie and their family is full of wisdom. There is also great tragedy in this story. For me, knowing that this is real and about real people makes the hurts so much deeper and more real, but the grace and forgiveness becomes even more beautiful.
Corrie is a woman who grows up learning of God through her life and her family around her. She learns of a God who loves her absolutely, who guides her through various difficulties, and always supplies the strength that is needed at the moment it is needed. If you have never read the story of this family, I highly recommend it and I won’t give away the plot here.
But, I will mention just one story. Corrie and her father are traveling on the train. Corrie is asking her father questions, trying to determine the meaning of different things. Some of the questions are very big questions for a very little girl. The father ponders the question for just a moment, and then reaches for his bag. Asking Corrie to carry the bag, she reached for it and found that it was too heavy. After telling her father that she couldn’t carry it, he took it from her. This object lesson was used to help Corrie understand that some things are too heavy for us. But, when we are called on by God to pick up that burden, he will provide the strength we need at that time. Until then, we do not have to carry the bags which we can only drag.
I find that a very real comfort. I have a God, a Father, a Friend, who not only knows when I will need strength, but then goes about providing just what I need, exactly when I need it.
Showing posts with label parent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parent. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Father’s Day
Father’s Day is almost here! I thought I’d take just a moment to point out that I have great parents! We have been through multiple moves, ups, downs, field trips, marching band contests, and going in and out of the house with dogs. I have lots of great parent memories.
But, it’s almost Father’s Day and I just wanted to send a special shout out for my dad. He’s always been there for me.
Love you DAD!
A few years ago, I started hearing about a ministry focusing on men – husbands and dads in particular. I was a bit skeptical. Okay, it was more like all the years of women’s lib that has been taught suddenly sprang into play – where is the teaching for the women? I felt like the men were being valued higher. I still would push for a ministry based on women, (after all the older women are to teach the younger), but I have learned from the lives of some friends – that the relationship that a father and husband can have within his family is tremendous. Daughters, well we tend to look for someone like our dads. Dads, that mean you have a role to play in your generation but your children as well. I’m thankful for my dad.
But, it’s almost Father’s Day and I just wanted to send a special shout out for my dad. He’s always been there for me.
Love you DAD!
A few years ago, I started hearing about a ministry focusing on men – husbands and dads in particular. I was a bit skeptical. Okay, it was more like all the years of women’s lib that has been taught suddenly sprang into play – where is the teaching for the women? I felt like the men were being valued higher. I still would push for a ministry based on women, (after all the older women are to teach the younger), but I have learned from the lives of some friends – that the relationship that a father and husband can have within his family is tremendous. Daughters, well we tend to look for someone like our dads. Dads, that mean you have a role to play in your generation but your children as well. I’m thankful for my dad.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Inheritance
Knock, knock, knock; the door being knocked on was my alarm yesterday morning. A small Jack Russell Terrier came up to join me on the bed for a morning snuggle and rub. She is a sweet pup and gave me a good excuse for not jumping right out of bed. I was tired and struggling to get moving.
Finally convincing myself, and the dog, that we really should get up and face the day; I donned my work jeans, an old t-shirt, and pulled my hair back into a somewhat short pony tail. The idea was to get to Grandma and Grandpa’s house before the heat of the day really set in. My grandmother has had so many beautiful plants in her yard over the years that I think her whole hand must be green, forget just the green thumb thing. As a child, I remember leaving the kitchen and walking onto a concrete porch and the snowball bushes greeted me. Big white fragrant blooms and glossy dark green leaves were the gateway to a botanical playground. This was where I was headed, though it is not the yard of my childhood. It has been several years of poor health for my grandparent’s and the yard was showing the loss of energy that occurred as a result. Weeds were poking through, but the flowers were still there and still strong. My mother and I came with coffee cans, the plastic kind, rooting hormone, and trash bags. You see, these plants are in a way part of my inheritance, my legacy from this grandmother. She loved the beauty in the hybrid roses just as she did the wild roses, the weeds others threw away she could still name them and see them as beautiful.
“Now, try to get some with the roots on it,” Grandma said as I would dig. My mind drew a connection as I traced the roots to the dirt and dug deeply around them. Our inheritance, our legacy is something like that. It is a long rooted thing. By the end of a hardworking, very hot, couple of hours, the coffee cans were full of starts. Roses, snowball bushes, lilies, and other plants were tucked in with their native dirt, deposited for the day and night on an aunt’s shady porch and watered. My grandmother sees beauty in things others call weeds, potential in what others call hopeless. It is a beautiful inheritance that she has given and is giving her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.
Then, leaving there and after a much needed shower, I headed to a friend’s house. There are some friends if you are fortunate enough to find, you must tend and maintain the friendship because it is truly a priceless and precious part of your life. It was to this friend’s house I went next. Immediately surrounded by a comfortable place, where I feel welcomed so much by the fact that she doesn’t have to rush around like a mad woman trying to pick up. Isn’t that nice, when you are comfortable enough with someone to not have to do that on a very busy day, knowing that they didn’t come to see the house but you? This is a very special family, a husband and wife and son. The little boy is also receiving an inheritance. He can’t trace it back to a rosebush that his grandmother’s grandmother had at this point, but he has an inheritance nonetheless. It is one that his parents and grandparents are building for him, with their love, attention, instruction, teaching, discipline, joy, and care. I love to watch these two in action, because they are intentionally parenting. In other words, they are intentionally and continuously examining their role as parents and seeking to do their absolute best.
Intentionally looking beyond the names others attach to “flowers or weeds”, intentionally parenting and modeling behavior, intentionally seeking out the roots and caring for them and taking the risk of failure for the risk of success. It is a legacy indeed.
Finally convincing myself, and the dog, that we really should get up and face the day; I donned my work jeans, an old t-shirt, and pulled my hair back into a somewhat short pony tail. The idea was to get to Grandma and Grandpa’s house before the heat of the day really set in. My grandmother has had so many beautiful plants in her yard over the years that I think her whole hand must be green, forget just the green thumb thing. As a child, I remember leaving the kitchen and walking onto a concrete porch and the snowball bushes greeted me. Big white fragrant blooms and glossy dark green leaves were the gateway to a botanical playground. This was where I was headed, though it is not the yard of my childhood. It has been several years of poor health for my grandparent’s and the yard was showing the loss of energy that occurred as a result. Weeds were poking through, but the flowers were still there and still strong. My mother and I came with coffee cans, the plastic kind, rooting hormone, and trash bags. You see, these plants are in a way part of my inheritance, my legacy from this grandmother. She loved the beauty in the hybrid roses just as she did the wild roses, the weeds others threw away she could still name them and see them as beautiful.
“Now, try to get some with the roots on it,” Grandma said as I would dig. My mind drew a connection as I traced the roots to the dirt and dug deeply around them. Our inheritance, our legacy is something like that. It is a long rooted thing. By the end of a hardworking, very hot, couple of hours, the coffee cans were full of starts. Roses, snowball bushes, lilies, and other plants were tucked in with their native dirt, deposited for the day and night on an aunt’s shady porch and watered. My grandmother sees beauty in things others call weeds, potential in what others call hopeless. It is a beautiful inheritance that she has given and is giving her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.
Then, leaving there and after a much needed shower, I headed to a friend’s house. There are some friends if you are fortunate enough to find, you must tend and maintain the friendship because it is truly a priceless and precious part of your life. It was to this friend’s house I went next. Immediately surrounded by a comfortable place, where I feel welcomed so much by the fact that she doesn’t have to rush around like a mad woman trying to pick up. Isn’t that nice, when you are comfortable enough with someone to not have to do that on a very busy day, knowing that they didn’t come to see the house but you? This is a very special family, a husband and wife and son. The little boy is also receiving an inheritance. He can’t trace it back to a rosebush that his grandmother’s grandmother had at this point, but he has an inheritance nonetheless. It is one that his parents and grandparents are building for him, with their love, attention, instruction, teaching, discipline, joy, and care. I love to watch these two in action, because they are intentionally parenting. In other words, they are intentionally and continuously examining their role as parents and seeking to do their absolute best.
Intentionally looking beyond the names others attach to “flowers or weeds”, intentionally parenting and modeling behavior, intentionally seeking out the roots and caring for them and taking the risk of failure for the risk of success. It is a legacy indeed.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Mother’s Love and Spit
A week ago I was watching a small herd of bison (buffalo) in Illinois. Two young calves had been born only days before and were out walking with the herd. One of them, took an opportunity to give her new baby a bath.
Some may say that the universal language is math, but in the case of moms, I think it’s a mother’s love and spit. Yes – spit. Didn’t your mom ever stick her thumb in her mouth, and then proceed to clean your face? Here it is, translated to a giant and beautiful animal, stopping to clean her child.
Yes, we can make faces as mom wipes away something after sticking their thumb in their mouth, but remember – it’s just mom saying that they love you.
Some may say that the universal language is math, but in the case of moms, I think it’s a mother’s love and spit. Yes – spit. Didn’t your mom ever stick her thumb in her mouth, and then proceed to clean your face? Here it is, translated to a giant and beautiful animal, stopping to clean her child.
Yes, we can make faces as mom wipes away something after sticking their thumb in their mouth, but remember – it’s just mom saying that they love you.
Happy Mother’s Day!
Thursday, March 25, 2010
In the Same Room
Recently a friend came to visit, and along with her came her little boy. He is an adorable little boy, full of laughter and love. He is a great kid, and a normal little boy. But, in those teaching moments, discipline and instructing moments, his mom was right there with him. She never told him to not do something from another room, handed out a punishment from another room, but was right there with him instead.
Jesus had spent time correcting the Pharisees. He strongly disciplined them, “You snakes! You brood of vipers! How will you escape being condemned to hell?” (Matthew 23:33). What was he going to do? Condemn them and say forget it, they deserve it? No – instead, he responded by saying “Therefore I am sending you prophets and wise men and teachers.” It continues into a prophecy that these prophets and wise men and teachers will be killed and crucified by these men, flogging them and pursuing them! The men were warned that they would suffer from the blood of the righteous.
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing,” (Matthew 23: 37). This was a moment of the parent grieving over the poor choices of wayward and making bad choices children, standing in the same room and disciplining them with hope that they would make a different choice.
Jesus had spent time correcting the Pharisees. He strongly disciplined them, “You snakes! You brood of vipers! How will you escape being condemned to hell?” (Matthew 23:33). What was he going to do? Condemn them and say forget it, they deserve it? No – instead, he responded by saying “Therefore I am sending you prophets and wise men and teachers.” It continues into a prophecy that these prophets and wise men and teachers will be killed and crucified by these men, flogging them and pursuing them! The men were warned that they would suffer from the blood of the righteous.
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing,” (Matthew 23: 37). This was a moment of the parent grieving over the poor choices of wayward and making bad choices children, standing in the same room and disciplining them with hope that they would make a different choice.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Are there Monsters in the Refrigerator?
I was talking to my dear friend tonight, and in the background sounds, much to my delight, I could hear her little boy talking. He was announcing with great confidence that there were no monsters in the refrigerator.
“No monsters in the refrigerator mommy. No monsters in the closet.”
I found myself laughing and could feel the wheels turning at the same time in my head.
Later on, she shared that sometimes he will ask at bedtime if there are monsters.
“No, no monsters.”
The reply comes, “are there ghosts?”
“No, no ghosts.”
“Okay”
Lord, would you please take care of any monsters in the refrigerator or ghosts in the closet. And, by the way – thanks for being on guard duty tonight so I can sleep. You really do give good gifts.
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