Be Still

It was December 1994 and I raced down the interstate -- with my eyes glued to the road in search of an opening in the traffic. Traffic...on a Saturday afternoon? Why today? It wasn't the ideal setting, but I snickered with surprise, as I learned just how much "get-up-and-go" my brand new red Mustang had. I had had my dream car for 5 days and I was driving it to my college graduation ceremony. In fact, even though I was a few minutes late, I was "riding on air".... literally.... "riding on air". I was mere minutes away from my exit when the car began to putter.... stutter.... and finally quit. Easing the wheel towards the shoulder of the road, I sat there in a long, cold silence and stunned disbelief. I thought I had plenty of gas to make it to graduation.... obviously that wasn’t the case. What if I don't make it? Four years of college and it comes down to this!

When I finally did look up, I saw that, thankfully, I was within walking distance of a gas station; though still in a panic, I was able to go there and fill up a container to bring back to my stranded car. A tenderhearted gentleman stopped to help the "damsel in distress" and laughed when I nervously fumbled around looking for the gas cap release button. I explained that I had only had the car for a few days. He grinned as he reached over and… opened the gas tank door on the side of the car. "Did you plan to just drive the car until it ran out of gas and then park it?”

"Maybe!" I answered sarcastically. I started to laugh with him. I was relieved. I was going to make it after all; then, as I brushed the back of my skirt, getting back into the car, I realized that in my bound from the car towards the gas station, I had split my long skirt clear up to the top of my legs!

“Oh no! You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me! This is not happening.” I had just minutes to get to the auditorium.

Amazingly, when I got there I found that I had only missed a short rehearsal. Backing into a corner, I took off my coat and replaced it with my graduation gown, so as not to reveal my newly "tailored" skirt. I found my seat and no one ever knew a thing, including my family who was just then entering the building. Suddenly, I was calm… like I can’t remember ever having been before.

"I made it. Thank you God.... thank you....thank you," I whispered to myself. I realized right then that the last thirty minutes of my life had been a summary, in a way, of the last four years of college. The ceremony could've been a blur, but instead, it was real and momentous and profound. Tears fell uncontrollably as my eyes opened wide to what was happening. As my personal pandemonium subsided, God brought me to a very quiet, peaceful place. Not only was I thanking Him for getting me to graduation safely, but more importantly, I was truly thanking Him for guiding me through four years of college and allowing me to reach a goal. He used the experience, that afternoon, to remind me that no matter how chaotic life had gotten, He was bringing me in for a safe landing, through faith in Him. Now that God has entrusted me with the Christian walk of a child, I pray that I can teach him to live by faith and learn to
sometimes simply…”be still” and listen.

"Be still, and know that I am God..." (Psalm 46:10)

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me; your right hand will hold me fast.
Psalm 139:7-1

September Wishes in December

With the beginning of a new year, comes renewed hope for positive change in our lives. Closing a chapter…letting go of past mistakes and past regrets just always feels so cleansing and liberating. For some reason, it’s easier this week than in all the others. And then on our clean slate, we can write what we’d like to be in the year to come. My personal prayer was that God would never let me pass up another opportunity to tell someone how much I care for him or her.

Shane and I, along with his new baby sister, Saylor, were doing our weekly grocery shopping just after the Christmas holidays. As any mother of a three-year-old knows, you have to get creative when you’re shopping. I would point at an item on the grocery shelf, make my request, then Shane would proudly reach for it and toss it into our shopping cart as if he were “shooting hoops”. At times it can get a bit “clang-y” when cans of green beans smack into cans of corn… but hey, “clang-y” is better than “cranky” in my book any day. He was in a “getting” mood that afternoon, but as I soon learned, he was in a “giving” mood too.

As we checked items off our list, we circled the corner of the greeting card aisle. Without hesitation, Shane grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the wall.

“Mama, can we buy Memaw a card?” he asked as he pointed to the birthday section.

“Memaw? Her birthday is in September, honey.” I explained with my motherly wisdom. Just as I was about to assure him that buying a birthday card right now for Memaw didn’t make sense, I was reminded of the prayer that I had made earlier about never missing an opportunity. God never lets me down. Straight from a tender three-year-old heart came a simple but wonderful idea to brighten someone’s day. What seemed impractical at first, suddenly seemed like the most perfect idea.

“Of course we can send Memaw a card. Go ahead and pick out a really pretty one for her.”

Shane went straight to a beautiful card with pink and yellow roses. A tiny bluebird was flying next to the message inside. Ironically, I’m sure it would’ve been the one that she’d have picked if she were there.

“Sometimes life gets so busy and we tend to let things go…Though we think of certain people, we so seldom let them know…So this just comes to tell you now that your birthday’s here You’re thought of in the warmest way so many days of the year. Happy Birthday.”

So, happy birthday… in December, Memaw.

Great opportunities may come once in a lifetime, but small opportunities surround us every day. “The Purpose Driven Life” Rick Warren

I guide you in the way of wisdom and lead you along straightpaths. Proverbs 4:11

It Never Left

“How’d ya like that movie, Shane?” I asked my sleepy little guy as we walked towards our car.
“Moon, Mama. There’s the moon. See?” he exclaimed with sudden energy.
“No, the movie…” I quickly saw that something much grander had captured his attention. It was full and bright and though I’m sure he’d seen it the night before, Shane greeted the moon like a long-lost friend. As I carried him towards the car, he twisted and turned in every direction, never losing sight of his enchantment. “Yes, I see the moon.” I said. After tucking him into the car and pulling away, I heard him begin to cry.

“Where did moon go?” Trying to comfort him, I drove the car around the parking lot, hoping to position us properly for another glimpse. Even when I was sure he could see it, however, the roof of the car still blocked his view. In a tired, defeated whimper, he said, “Good night moon.” In and out of sleep, he softly cried.

Throughout the drive home, I scanned outside all of our windows, stretched forward, peering through the windshield, trying to spot it for him. And though it was a chilly November night, I even opened the sunroof for a couple of seconds, hoping to see it just above our heads. No luck. We simply couldn’t see it from inside our car.

Once we arrived home, I pulled him from his car seat, and quietly pointed up towards the star-filled sky. He raised his sleepy head, opened his eyes wide and said, “Ah-w-w, there it is.”
“It never left, honey; we just couldn’t see it. No matter where you go at night, the moon’s always there. Even though you might not be able to see it because of a cloud or even the top of our car, it’s still up in the sky. Do you feel better?”

“Yeah…” he answered half-heartedly as he lowered his head to my shoulder. There was a familiarity in the words I used to teach my son something new that night. There was familiarity in Shane’s despair when he thought the moon was gone. I realized this wasn’t as much a teaching moment for Shane, as it was a teaching moment for me.

Christ, our light in the darkness, is always, always there. If I’m in the comfort of my home or in the uncertainty of a far-away land, He’s there shining down on me. If a cloud of despair separates me from Him, He’s right there awaiting its dissipation. Even when, through my self-proclaimed self-sufficiency, I interrupt His light and cause a total lunar eclipse, He still waits for me, patiently, in His steadfast position.

I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone O Lord, make me dwell in safety.
Psalm
4:8

Safe with Dad

Winding down a sun-drenched afternoon of boating, we tied up at the marina for dinner on the pier with our good friends and their kids. As we waited for our dinner to arrive, the balmy summer afternoon slipped loosely to a cool dusk and the lake calmly absorbed what was left of the bright crimson sunset. The small boys on our crew became fascinated with watching ducks and fish flocking to the side of the pier searching for food. Other kids at the marina were throwing in table scraps and they watched as the ducks raced to each piece as if magnetized by it. As we fully expected, the two older boys hurried through their dinner so that they could join the other kids. With a stern command to stay away from the edge of the pier, their Mom hesitantly let them go. After all, they were only a couple of feet away.

As we reminisced over the fun of the day, we looked up and saw the oldest of the boys walking back to us. “Where’s your brother? His mother asked almost frantically as she envisioned her five-year-old falling into the deep lake. Without waiting for an answer, she instinctively jumped from the table and rounded the corner. We could hear her sigh of relief when she saw that he was safely holding his Daddy’s hand, watching the fish swimming below. She knew that everything was okay. His Dad had been right there beside him all along.

It was a simple occurrence, yet a profound visual reminder to me, for just the next day, as I talked to a dear friend, I saw God’s message. For weeks, we have helplessly watched as she and her family have experienced the deepest struggle of their lives. With all the cards and books and phone calls that we can possibly send them, we all still feel powerless. Do they still feel alone?

God showed me what He longs for us to know. Through her deeply rooted faith and her hope in the Lord, I was reminded and can easily see now that our Heavenly Father is standing right beside her throughout her trials. He’s been there since the beginning and He always will be, making sure that his precious child is safe and protected.

Our Father is in our past, wiping away our past mistakes. He’s in our future, placing stepping-stones on our path. He’s in our present, walking however slowly we might need to walk today, holding our hand all the way.

“I will never leave you or forsake you.” (Hebrews 13:5)

Night Night Moon

“Pull the weeds out of the flower garden, wash the car, and wash the windows...” Each item on my to-do-list had its own number and timeframe in which to do it. Since our son, Shane, came along, it had become necessary to schedule certain things during his naptime. The moment I knew he was asleep in the safety of his playpen, I could grab his baby monitor, and race outside. If nothing disturbed him, I was sure to have an hour to finish weeding the garden and maybe even knock out the next item on the list.

Late one afternoon, just after Shane dozed off, I tiptoed past his playpen towards the back door. I was within two feet when the floor creaked.

“Mama. Out.” With his hands in the air, he grinned and repeated his request over and over until I reached down and picked him up. “Walk,” he said as he grabbed my hand and lead me across the room. With one chubby finger, while still holding my hand with the other, he matter-of-factly pointed to the floor. “Right there,” he commanded with a grin. I sat in the floor and watched as he demonstrated. On all fours, he hopped as best he could, and then pointed at me to do the same.

“Rid-it, rid-it…” (Shane-ese for “ribbit”). The next thing I knew, I too, was on the floor hopping around the living room like a frog. I never did get around to pulling weeds that day. Instead Shane went to the front door and asked to “walk”. There was a summer shower heading our way that evening, but I figured we still had a few minutes. The sky, though steel blue, heading towards nightfall, felt calm and serene. There was a fresh, sweet scent in the air and a gentle breeze picking up momentum. As we walked down the driveway, Shane looked up and saw the moon peaking in and out of the rain clouds.

“Night-night moon,” he said as he waved high above his head. As we walked along, we said “night-night” to the birdies, then to his favorite doggie, to the clouds, and finally to a bug by his shoe. Suddenly, I felt the raindrops so we walked quickly back towards the house. As I stepped up on the front porch, the shower unleashed.
“Come on Shaner, we gotta get in quick or we’ll get all wet.” I turned around to grab his hand and saw that he had stopped in the middle of the yard. He was looking straight up into the sky with raindrops rolling off his cheeks; he gathered them in his tiny outstretched arms and laughed hysterically.

“Oh bo-o-oy…rain!” He shouted.

I probably should have gotten him in out of the rain, but I just stood there and watched. Let me tell you…there’s no sweeter sight, than a two-year-old little boy truly feeling a wonderful summer rain shower for the first time. And I can’t think of a sweeter reminder from God to stop… and soak up all of this beauty that surrounds us everyday.

Because I have a son, I have to have a set schedule. Because I have a son, I’ve learned to sometimes throw that schedule right out the window…yeah, the window with the fingerprints all over it.

Warm Blankets

I saw my first daffodil bloom peaking its way out that morning. It was surrounded by small patches of vibrant green grass, brought on by several days in a row of mild weather. Spring was so close I could taste it. As I closed the blinds to block out the light on this beautifully sunny morning, I thought, well, we’ve waited this long for spring I guess we can wait a couple more days. Early that morning, you see, we realized that my 19-month-old was one of the lucky recipients of a bad tummy “bug”.

There was fear in his eyes from the onset. He’d never experienced anything like this before and neither had I, as a Mom. It seemed to help him that I was by his side and that was good, because I wasn’t about to leave him. Thankfully there was no place I had to be that day. That was the day’s first blessing. Lying next to him, watching him sleep when he could, I talked to God, praying that He would take care of my little guy and help this “bug” to pass quickly. While I was there with him in that dark, quiet room, talking to God about him, a soft sense of peace seemed to blanket the both of us. I hadn’t felt that in a long time.

In between naps, when he felt up to it, we watched his favorite cartoons and nibbled on Saltines and Popsicles. His shows are very often background noise to me on a normal day. Today, however, I got to know his favorite characters. And that “Patty-Cake” we’d worked on for months… well we had time to perfect it today.

The warm softness of the freshly washed sheets I pulled out of the dryer that afternoon took me back to my own childhood. I remembered how wonderful it felt to lie back down under my warm sheets and blankets that my Mom washed for me when I was sick. And just like Mom would do, I rolled up a cool cloth and gently held it on his forehead to make him more comfortable. And I was reminded that day, that although a child can pull the covers up around himself with very little effort even when he’s sick, its just better when Mom does it.

When I was a child I can remember feeling sad that Mom had to give up her day to take care of me when I was sick. She tried many times over the years to explain to me why a Mom does what she does, but I just didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand until God decided it was the right time for me to get to be the “Mom”.

No one's smile has ever warmed my heart like yours does; no one's laughter fills my heart with delight as quickly as yours can. No one's hugs feel as sweet, and no one's dreams mean as much to me as yours do.
Author Unknown

I'll Never Leave You

“Make sure to cover his head good”, I instructed my husband, with all the cautiousness of a new mother. Our August baby hadn’t yet been exposed to cold weather. And that year, neither had I, come to think of it. The late summer temperatures seemed perfectly fine for our tiny little boy, but now that there was a definite chill in the air, my motherly instinct was to stay in. I couldn’t stand the thought of him getting sick. He was my number one priority, even if it meant suffering from a touch of “cabin fever” throughout the winter.

Every day brought a new and wonderful thing that he learned to do. My husband figured out just what to do to make him “belly laugh”. I don’t remember feeling more entertained than when I heard that precious sound for the first time… and for the half an hour following, that we spent making funny faces in hopes that he’d do it again. Who needed to go out when we had this amazing stuff going on right in our living room? Then he began to discover his own hands and how they worked. He would wave them in front of his face and sweetly giggle; I’m sure he thought they belonged to someone else. Watching him grow and develop was so much more amazing that we ever imagined. The days slipped into weeks. We got our first glimpse of just how quickly time was going to fly when we saw on our calendar that it was already time for his 3-month checkup with his pediatrician. I dressed him in a brand new outfit that had been too big until now; then we bundled him in a warm fleece blanket to protect him from the chilly November breeze.

We walked into the brightly lit, very cheerfully decorated doctor’s office. Shane had fallen asleep on the drive over so my husband held him in a quiet corner while I signed us in. Date… November 19th. Name… K-e-l-l… Before I could finish, the receptionist stopped me.

“We need your son’s name.” She said with a giggle.

“Oh, of course,” I said, feeling quite embarrassed. It was my first realization that my son was his own little person. He had physically been a part of me for nine months. And for the first three months that he’d been here, he hadn’t been away from me for more than an hour. I once heard someone say that a mother has to let go of a child a million times throughout his childhood. I guess God does that so we don’t completely lose it when he drives away to college. No one warned me that those moments would happen this early though.

“Shane?” the nurse called from the door. By now he was just beginning to wake up. We gathered the carrier, the bag, the blanket, and the baby and entered the doctor’s room.
Our little boy was, by far, my favorite subject; I was excited about sharing with his doctor all the amazing things he was already doing. The doctor patiently listened to our account of Shane’s development and didn’t even laugh when we pulled out our long list of “new-parent” questions. Shane, who was wide-eyed by now, relished the attention of the doctor during the exam, as he talked to him and tickled his tummy.

“He’s in outstanding health,” the doctor concluded as he wrapped his stethoscope around his neck. My husband quietly sighed in relief.

“I’ll see you in three months.” As he left for his next appointment, the nurse passed him in the doorway. “It’s time for his first three shots.”

She quietly prepared the needles then turned to me and asked that I hold both of his legs so that he wouldn’t move when she administered them. Did I want him to associate me with this pain he was going to feel? After all, there would be several more visits where he would have to have shots. If I stepped to the other side of the room, however, would he feel that I had abandoned him? I looked down into his eyes, still giddy from all the attention, and I knew that I couldn’t possibly leave my little boy.

The first shot was given. His grin coldly and instantly turned to shock as the stinging needle penetrated his skin. Enormous tears filled his eyes. Blood rushed to his cheeks and he screamed in pain. The fear in his face pierced my heart. I could hear him saying, “Mommy, why are you letting this happen?” My heart was breaking. The second shot was given. The cries turned to wails. I felt so helpless, but I knew that this had to be done to ensure his health. After the third shot was given, the nurse said,

“That’s it. That’s the last one.”

I scooped him into my arms and held him tightly as I fought back my own tears. “No more shots. It’s all over. Mommy’s here. I love you.” I assured him over and over.
The shock and the pain of his first round of vaccinations lingered for just a few minutes. I sat quietly in the doctor’s office and held him until he began to calm down. I will admit… I hadn’t prepared myself for the first moment that my son felt real pain and real fear. I learned just how deeply my love for him was that day.

I learned something else that day too… from our Heavenly Father. He illustrated to me the deep love He has for us. I knew, as a parent, that those painful shots were absolutely necessary to make my son strong and resilient against disease. Although it was difficult to stand still and not intervene, the assurance that there was a loving purpose for this pain made it okay. God reminded me that He also has a purpose for my pain. He knows that sometimes I will have to endure excruciating pain for a time in order to make me a stronger, more resilient Christian. And even though I sometimes feel completely alone, He has never left my side. He holds my hand and loves me through my toughest times. And when my storms subside, He’s there to wrap me in His arms, all the while saying, “It’s all over. I’m right here. I love you.”

"…never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." Hebrews 13:5

Lights Out

“Turn the light off and stop playing with the switch!” I scolded my 16-month-old. The biggest part of my afternoon had been spent saying those words to my toddler, who, oblivious to the consequences, insisted on flipping the kitchen light on… and off…on… and off. I just knew he would burn up the light bulb with the surges of electricity, not to mention, fall off the step where he stood tippy-toed, and hit the hard tile floor.

“Okay, buddy, this is for your own good. Mommy’s told you 100 times to stop and you’ve ignored me. Now, you’re going to your room by yourself!” I said in my sternest voice, so as to convey my authority. I swept him off the step and he yelped like a little puppy being snatched up by the dogcatcher. As I whisked him through the house and up the stairs, he began to sob uncontrollably. He knew by my abruptness that whatever was about to happen to him could not be good. We rounded the corner to his bedroom and swung open the door. It seemed different. It’s amazing just how incredibly dark and cold a powder blue room with sailboats on the wall can seem at moments like these. I hoisted him over the railing of the crib as he screamed at the top of his lungs. He knew, then, what was about to happen. He was going to be left alone… in the dark… alone.

“I can’t do this,” I told God as I closed the door on my terrified little boy and pushed myself down the hallway. I had always prided myself on the knowledge that I would not have a problem with disciplining my children. That self-assurance was crumbling before my eyes. I never imagined that it could feel this bad. “I am his Mommy. I’m supposed to be his “safe-haven” and his security. How can I be those things, and at the same time, be the one who leaves him in a dark, frightening room and walks away as if I don’t care?”

I went back downstairs to the kitchen and resumed cooking dinner. I had to turn off the baby monitor because I couldn’t bear to hear him cry. All the while, I prayed for God’s assurance that I was handling this the right way and that He would comfort my little boy. I prayed that our son would understand soon what discipline was and that his Mommy and Daddy did it because they love him so much, and for no other reason.

When dinner was done I asked my husband if he would go to Shane’s room and get him for dinner. I was so anxious to relieve him of his punishment. I hoped it would also help to know that we were having macaroni-n-cheese with dinner. My husband came back down the stairs empty-handed.

“He’s sound asleep.” He said.

“You’re kidding,” I laughed. “All this time I’ve worried about how traumatic this has been for such a tiny little boy and… he’s asleep”.

Once again, I realized that God, in His beautiful sufficiency, answered my heartfelt prayer. Not only did he reassure me that I was doing the right thing, but He also heard my prayer for my son’s comfort and God lovingly calmed him right to sleep.
Oh to be as accepting of God’s authority and His love, as my son was of my authority and my love. I believe that we both learned, that night, that those two things can be one and the same, just as it is with our Heavenly Father.

When he did wake up, I wrapped him up in my arms and kissed his face over and over. He clung to me tighter than usual. He needed a hug from Mommy as badly as I needed one from him. Isn’t it just like God, I thought, to illustrate to us, something as powerful as His unfailing love for us, with something as simple to grasp as a kitchen light switch.

… "Lord God of Israel, there is no god like you in heaven above or on earth below! You keep your covenant with your people and show them your love when they live in wholehearted obedience to you. 1Kings 8:23

Eternal Gifts

Throughout the weeks prior to our child’s birth, friends and family showered us with gifts. Time after time I stood in the nursery, daydreaming, as I looked at tiny outfits and tried so hard to imagine what he would look like in each one. There was a pair of red fleece Christmas pajamas with matching booties and a stocking cap and the yellow seersucker jumper with a miniature duckling on the front all dressed up for Easter. I held each one up and some against my face imagining his face next to me.

Hanging very neatly on a satin covered hanger, I came across an outfit with special significance. A few months earlier when we found out that we were having a little boy, a dear friend began hand-making this lovely gift. It was an elegant, yet handsome powder blue crocheted coat with matching crocheted hat and booties. It was delicately trimmed with buttons in the shape of sailboats, as that was our nursery theme.

Shane was born in the first week of August. I knew it would be a few months before he would wear the jacket, so I hung it on a shelf-hook in his bedroom so that I could enjoy looking at it, until the weather was appropriate. The months flew by us, just as everyone warned they would with a new baby; when the first cold Sunday came, I remembered the jacket hanging on the wall. But when I put it on him, it was obvious that he had long since outgrown it. It was so small on him that the sleeves slid to his elbows when he placed his arms inside. The tiny booties would barely cover his toes and the hat would cover only the top of his head and go no further. It broke my heart to think that we never got to use the outfit that our friend had put so much time and hard work into.

As many more months passed by, I packed away many more tiny outfits that Shane had outgrown. We put away the Christmas pajamas and then the Easter outfit, though he only wore them once. He grew so fast that the box of outgrown clothes overflowed. Through this ritual, however, I grew, as well. It was painful, at first, to let go of my “baby”. The first year proved to be an intense challenge. (Heaven help us when he starts school). I had to let go of all the precious things that come with a new baby, and pack them away to make room for “little boy” things. What I get to keep forever, though, are all the “firsts” that we experienced together.

Often with clenched fists, we cling to things of the world that are temporal. God teaches that if we will just loosen our grip and free our hands, He’ll place in them, little bits of heaven. The hand-made jacket was as temporary as it was beautiful. What was eternal was the love that our dear friend expressed to our family. The jacket, though it was never actually worn, reminds me of that love and thoughtfulness that I get to keep forever.

Someday

What a picture of blissfulness. In his car seat, he had turned his chubby cheeks to the window to let the spring sunshine warm face. With his favorite stuffed dolphin cushioning his head, and a baby-blue teddy bear in his arms, he sweetly slipped into a tranquil nap. In his sleep, however, from time to time, we heard tiny little giggles and when we looked back at him, we’d catch a glimpse of a smile for just a second, although never opening his eyes. My husband and I laughed quietly as we watched our little boy in his slumber, completely unaware of anything but this peaceful dreamland that he had entered.

We turned back around and sat quietly in our thoughts on this beautiful April drive through the country. Then my husband asked me, “What do you think he’s dreaming about?” We joked that he had to be dreaming about his next bottle of milk. The truth is, I really began to ponder that question. What could an 8-month old little boy dream about? After all, he’s been in this world for less than a year. His world consists of cartoons in the morning, naps in the afternoon, and playing with his stuffed animals and toys. So far, that’s all. The spectrum of his thoughts is narrow. He’s very limited on what he could dream about based on what he knows.

He’s yet to experience the crash of ocean waves and sand between his toes. He’s never seen a sunset through mountaintops in the west. He doesn’t know what it’s like to pick an apple straight from a tree and taste its pure sweetness. He’s never fallen in love with a beautiful girl or held a newborn puppy in his arms. But…I know he will someday. I suddenly felt peace at that moment and I realized that our Heavenly Father had just revealed something precious to me.

When I dream at night, He has the same peace, knowing that there is so much that I haven’t experienced yet. But…He knows that I will someday. I’ll know things that I couldn’t possibly dream about today because my spectrum of thoughts is so very narrow on this earth. I can’t even write about them…I don’t know the words yet. But I will. You will. He promised.

Heart's Content

“Hey guys, it’s time for Shane to open presents… so come on over here.” I kindly instructed the kids. His first birthday party was a raving success as cousins, church friends, and neighbors relayed from the inflated trampoline in the backyard to the tricycle races in the driveway, and back to the table of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Once we had all the children settled under the shade of the carport, I pointed Shane towards the glorious heap of gift bags and boxes. With a bit of hesitation, he sauntered over, shifting his eyes back to me once or twice, for further approval. The magnificent colors, intriguing shapes, and alluring pictures fascinated him; little did he know there were actually toys inside. I nudged him closer and closer. Finally after seeing that he would be allowed and even encouraged, he began to tear into each package.
The kids around him relished in his obvious delight; little faces gushed with pride when I read aloud their personalized birthday cards. And when Shane dove into each package with abandon, there was nearly as much anticipation on each face around him as was on his. It was pure joy to watch Shane and the other kids relish in this special day.

The next afternoon, after the trampoline was deflated, the tricycles parked, and the decorations dismantled, we decided to assemble all of the toys Shane had received. As a Mom, I didn’t want the excitement of his first birthday to end just yet...for either of us. As I cut plastic ties, peeled off tape, and snapped pieces together, what once was just a cardboard box with great pictures was evolving into a great toy, with little animals that made wonderful noises. The bird sang. The bear roared. The walrus barked. He loved it. I must have heard the music that accompanied that toy 30 times in the hour that we played with it. It was wonderful to watch my son discover and enjoy and develop his skill in making the bear roar in sync with the music. The true purpose of this gift was being seen and felt.

Lost in thought, sitting in the floor with Shane, I felt my Heavenly Father revealing something wonderful to me. In watching Shane discover new treasures in each carefully wrapped birthday gift, I had experienced joy in the purest sense; it must be what God feels when we open a gift specially chosen by Him.
The question is…are we enjoying the gifts that God gives us? Do we see the beauty in the magnificent wrapping of each one? Do we allow ourselves the excitement of tearing into them when they are handed to us?

Or…do we take the gift, still in the wrapping paper, and place it on a shelf?
“I feel undeserving. Taking the gift makes me feel guilty. Taking the gift will surely make me a bad person.”

No. That’s not the way God wants us to feel. Our Heavenly Father wants us to wholeheartedly receive the gifts that He’s designed specially for us; they all have a purpose and a meaning. Not only can they bring us immense joy, but they can also be used to glorify Him.

Just as I found delight in seeing my son play that song over and over to his heart’s content, so God must enjoy watching us relish in the gifts that He so lovingly gives to us.
Can’t you just hear God saying, “That passion you have…yeah…that one’s from me. Go ahead…take the time to read the directions…figure it out... and develop it. Use it to help Me…then enjoy all the happiness from it that you can stand.” I see Him lovingly putting His hand on my shoulder and giving me a wink.

Rick Warren put it this way…
“Everything created by God reflects his glory in some way.” (The Purpose Driven Life)

James, the brother of Jesus, says it even more eloquently… Every good and faithful gift is from the Father above, who created all heaven’s lights. Unlike them, he never changes or casts shifting shadows. In His goodness, he chose to make us his own children by giving us his true word. And we, out of all creation, became his choice possession. (James 1:17-18).