My sweet friend is expecting her second baby in  few weeks- then the United States Navy will send my friend and her family on an adventure far far from Texas.

So-I'm thinking of everything I want to tell her before baby and the move and Aye! time flies.
About mothering, I'll tell her, Aim at the heart!

It seems that our children's behavior is ever before us; we're tempted to target behavior- to reward good behavior and punish bad behavior. But we're not behaviorists -and our children will never come to Jesus unless they recognize the sin sickness in their own hearts.

Watch over your heart with all diligence for from it flow the springs of life (Prov 4:32)

Mothers watch over their children's hearts by probing. . .just a loving probe!
"When you hit your brother, what were you wanting?"

 While my children were growing up, I didn't always aim at their hearts. . .

Thinking about it, a cloud of regret engulfed me, the super charged feeling that sometimes over shadows mothers of grown children.

So-in the midst of my sober reflection, my  youngest called-  she talked to me about behavior issue going on with a child she supervises.

"I need to address his behavior, but like you would tell us, the real issue is in his heart."

"Yah, you're right, and you remember?"

Then I thanked my youngest for a small memory- a seed of  encouragement.

to love a friend

Last month my friend lost her husband. . . his death was expected- but not in that way, and not then. 
I'm thinking. . . even with the sure hope of heaven, are we ever prepared for the separation, the finality, the gaping, ugly hole? "Death reminds me how horrible sin is." confided my friend.

"She's a strong woman. . .she'll be fine." said a mutual friend.
The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous runs into it and is safe.
I know. . .but today my friend is weak; today life's edges are twisted, frayed, confused, daily tasks complicated, unfinished.

I pencil my friend's name beside verses in my bible and pray for her.
Answer me quickly, Lord; my spirit fails, let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love. . .make me to know the way I should go. . .

 I call, wait for her to reach out for me, to come close -
Two are better than one. . .for if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion. 

I struggle with how to do this well, fumbling to discern how to love my friend in her grief. It's like I'm waiting for her to tell me how to do it- (and I hate that  I haven't figured it out already.)

Finally I say, "I don't know how to help, but I'm coming over."
So- we work and talk and remember- it's good and I'll come again.
Dear friend, I'll stay close. . .even when I'm not sure just how to do it.
I'm thinking how much I have to learn . . .
Make me know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths.

grateful

This week's our anniversary- I pulled out the recipe for our favorite clam chowder.
I am grateful for this man I married 42 years ago, but I've discovered about myself. . .
If I don't choose to remember why I'm grateful, day by day, then criticism creeps into my heart, overshadowing anything praise worthy.

John and I enjoy watching films at home together. I usually choose them with our individual interests in mind and my husbands trusts me to line up a varied queue. I know he likes the films where the teacher makes a difference. . .

Last week we watched Temple Grandin, a film about a woman with autism; she grew up in the 60's when little was known about her condition. So, after we moped up the emotion and gave the film our personal 5 stars, my husband shared his own teacher story. . .

You see- one day during his break, my husband climbed into the jumping pit for a bit of a rest, pulled the parachute under his chin and closed his eyes; the gym door slid open and the special education class clamored in with their assistants. So- feigning sleep but peering under eye slits, he observed 2 little ones creeping his way, up and into the jumping pit.

" I felt a peck on my forehead and a slobbery kiss, like a lick, on my cheek, a torrent of giggles. . .those are my autistic kids." he told me.

And I'm grateful for him. . .

working on gratitude

 Lately I've been thinking a lot about gratitude (and ingratitude). So, what does God-centered gratitude look like?  I'm peering hard into my heart. . .where gratitude is sporadic, informed by circumstances. Ugg.

 So- to start, gratitude is a lot about what I choose to see, like. . .when I visit my Tennessee family in January, I drape my towel over the warm radiator before a shower-
And in the pale morning, I  awake to rhythm, click, click, click as my son guides his bicycle out the door to work . . .I see small evidences of God's grace to me.

Then there's little G. . . I'm a long distance grandmother but I think she likes me. we bake cupcakes, mold play dough, read books, snuggle her wee brother. She calls him "Fort baby".

I see huge evidences of God's grace to me and. . . With my mouth I will give thanks abundantly to the Lord and in the midst of many I will praise him. (Ps 109)

Fortlage Thomas

"Seek to cultivate a buoyant, joyous sense of the crowded kindness of God in your daily life"
Alexander Maclaren

one mitten

Tomorrow I'll fly to Tennessee to meet the new baby. . . I've packed one mitten in my backpack

 for his big  sister. 

Today I showed off the mitten to the grandchildren who live here.

"Does she only need one mitten?" 

"Oh no, she needs two! Perhaps I'll knit up the mate during my airport wait." I answered.

Then we'll see if they fit -my first attempt at tiny mittens.

Really, though, I can't wait to cuddle the wee boy. . .can't wait to squeeze 2 year old hands.

worthy pursuits- 2104

My sweet grand daughter, Adalyn, operates in 5th gear. . . and sometimes she crashes.
I can almost detect her breathing outside my bedroom door in the morning. . .she's just waiting for me, waiting for the day- she greets me with 10 decibels and if the trash man has already made his morning rounds, she shouts with glee, "I got 2 honks and a wave!"
If she doesn't offer first, I always request her little song,  "Good morning, God, this is your day, I am your child, show me the way."

mmm, I see Adalyn in me. . .
Eager for a new day, I operate in high gear and sometimes I crash- like one day  last week.
It wasn't the 2 planned coffees or the 3 unplanned  phone conversations, not really.
But I forgot- God, this is your day, show me the way. 

Soul,  in 2014, in all your worthy pursuits, Remember-

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding, 
in all your ways acknowledge him and he will make your path straight. (Proverbs 3)

serving toast and eggs

I always relish the days between Christmas and the new year, that in between week when it's okay to be slow, to make few commitments- when there's a reason to be especially reflective.
Saturday after Christmas John and I were doing just that. . .then we heard from William, early.

William use to be our neighbor, living in the house across the street where occupants cycle in and out almost before we can greet and learn their names;  during William's brief neighbor status, my husband got acquainted with him a bit. William is profoundly deaf, a rather lost soul.

"Can I come to your house? I'm hungry. I'm at the bus stop." William sent John a text.

Well, of course, William could come. . . all week we'd been eating Christmas leftovers from the fridge.
"We can give William eggs and toast--not much else." I told my husband.

John returned William's text, "Sure come on over, we have eggs and toast!"

So, we welcomed William and fed him and the morning stretched on. I passed through the dining room now and then, observed the men intent in written conversation. I heard William's laughter and verbal outbursts, and I noticed my husband's face, engaged, happy to be with William.
The merciful man does good to his own soul. . .that's my husband.

Later I cleared away the dishes, noting that while William eats toast, he leaves the crusts, like the sandwiches I prepared him in the past. I glanced over some of the written conversation:

John: "How do you like your eggs? sunny side up? over easy? scrambled?" (in pictures)
William: "Do you have bacon or sausage?"
John: "Nope, I have popcorn. . .!"

Ahh, I am married to a wonderful man, still, in 2014.