Counseling myself

I walked along the river this morning- alone,  glad for an almost empty day to read and write, to talk very little, to mentally review the past week . . .to counsel myself.

A few weeks ago I shared  a devotional at a baby shower in the morning and again for a bridal shower in the afternoon- on the same day.

So, in the morning I urged Gina to Trust the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding!

When a mother trusts herself rather than God, fear captures her heart; she's tempted to control her children with a death grip- (then I told Gina about the grip in my heart when Rachel was about 9 and I let her choose her own shoes.)

And in the afternoon I urged Anna to Trust in the Lord and do good, dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness!"

Marriage is awesome-but two sinners say "I do" and future unknowns tempt a wife's heart to fear, to control her husband rather than to help him.(then I told Anna that when I was growing up, cars never broke down. . . and how months into our marriage I discovered a Fiat engine on the floor of our garage.)

Recently John and I had a serious discussion about his imminent retirement, about our future plans, concerns, questions. 

"I think I'm struggling with fear and I want to control you!" I admitted to my husband.

Then all the teaching that I had prepared, prayed, shared, came flooding in and pressed upon my  heart.

So, today and tomorrow I step back behind my own words and counsel myself.

let us press on. . .

This afternoon I pulled into my driveway and Ralph was standing in the flatbed of his pickup truck;
  he grinned at me, "Sister, did you come to take me to the airport so I can fly off somewhere too?"
 Mine is a globe trotting family. . .  the airport taxies think I'm one too.

Mercy's been in and out the past few weeks-around for tea time. . .

 Yesterday morning at 5 a.m.  I dropped her off on the airport curb; she's going to New York-to stay.  I'm excited for her to see spring daffodils in New York, to have an adventure-I assure her that Texas will welcome her home anytime.

I sat on Mercy's bed in the wee hours of the morning while we riffled  through clothes and memories, shoes, scarfs and memories, closet stuff with memories.
She packed a big suitcase and I added a small purple journal wrapped around twice with blue ribbon-
Mercy, be passionate for Jesus and his Gospel, I wrote on the first page.

And this morning I walked into her room to view the remains; the left behind shirts and sweaters smelled like her--so good.
"So let us know, let us press on to know the Lord, His going forth is as certain as the dawn; and He will come to us like the rain, like the spring rain watering the earth." (Hosea 6:3)

more than coffee dates

Tomorrow night when I talk about women discipling women, I'll tell them that discipleship is more than putting coffee dates on the calendar- but then, they know that already. . .

Mary and I met consistently every week, then every other week for 2 years, I think.
The purpose in a man's heart is like deep waters, but a man of understanding draws it out (Prov 20). . .we were those women-her heart was like deep waters and I cried to the Lord for understanding.

 Then our meetings changed because Mary had a baby- amazing and wonderful in every way!

After a few months Mary invited me to her home-I sat on her soft brown couch and snuggled the baby. we talked about God and about baby joys and  baby challenges-and we prayed.
Flexible. . .discipleship is flexible.  When Mary's baby was almost a year, I started coming to her house on Friday mornings. I stayed with the baby and Mary went to Starbucks alone with her Bible. It worked. . .I grew to know and love Mary's baby and Mary grew-

So, Scott and Mary moved to California 4 years ago and now the baby is 10.
We still have phone dates, "Mary, I'm doing discipleship training, can I tell them about us?"
"Sure, tell them whatever you want. . .I trust you." She said.

Start, then persevere

I fussed with the words on the page under the title Discipleship.
Finally I scribbled, Start and Persevere. . .then I called my friend in California.

" Mary, remind me how it looked a dozen years ago- how did we start? What did I say to you?"

" We were in Bible study together, remember? I asked if you would meet me for coffee, and then you said, let's do it again!"

So, Mary and I began a discipleship journey more than a decade ago; initially our meetings were really messy. . .her candor stung me and I cowered.
 If Mary had announced, "Enough of this!" I would have capitulated.
But week after week we met at the same Starbucks-opened the Bible, prayed, pursued change for the glory of God, drank coffee.
I learned that growth is a gradual process; it's a battle.
And I learned to ask questions,  to listen just enough, to discern when to talk into a situation, when to push a little, when to wait. . . I'm still learning .
So, weeks and months turned into years ; Mary and I kept meeting and I grew to love her.
Then discipleship changed. . .

 

incredible

Today is my anniversary, 41 years married to the same man.

Incredible. . .

So this morning my husband went off to school disguised as

Mr. Incredible

(superhero day at school)

Really, he's incredible

undefined discipleship. . .

I constantly inspect the curve of the fig vine creeping up the cement wall of my house-
tiny leaves frame the window panes; mentally I measure the growth and  I wonder,  
when will the tendrils reach the roof?
Spiritual growth is like that. . .

This spring I'm involved in discipleship training-
Aye, how do I define this thing that I do. . .that I love to do?
Here's the heart of the matter clearly defined:

So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only

 the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us.
 (1 Thess 2:8)

Maybe I'm struggling to lay out the steps because there are no steps-for me.
but I can't just call it "undefined discipleship". . .
hmmm, a worthy pursuit and I'm not finished yet.
(and there's more. . .) 

My mother collected bells-I can imagine the assortment arranged on her school desk.
Mom liked to say that she taught kindergarten for a hundred years. . .

A few years ago, I chose a bell from her collection, brass and distinctly engraved, with a tiny clapper.
Landis loves to hold the brass bell -he shakes it so gently. 
So, the other day my sweet grandson came to visit, and in the bathroom all by himself, he called,
"Gran, could you bring me Gigi's bell?"
Sure, and I set the bell on the sink where he pointed.
"Why do you want it?" I inquired.
"I'll ring the bell when I'm done. . . ." he called back.
hmmm, a new use for an old brass bell- my mother would love it.