The Gift That Dory Gave Me

Sometimes the most unexpected moments hold the deepest truths. One evening, I sat with my granddaughter Violet to watch Finding Dory. What began as a simple movie night turned into a tender conversation—one about memory, love, and what it means to be held even when we forget.

This excerpt comes from my upcoming memoir, A Year With My Dad, where I explore the hidden gifts discovered in the journey through dementia.

Some conversations stay with you, like a song you didn’t know you loved until you found yourself singing it in the shower.  (Every day).  It’s strange how certain words echo long after the talking’s done.  Some of them leave you standing there, arms full of your own sadness and someone else’s, not even sure which is heavier.

     It was one of our regular Friday night traditions when we watch the grandkids—movie night on the couch.  Popcorn everywhere, wrappers crammed between couch cushions, the whole shebang.  We’ve pretty much run out of the “classics” to watch, so that night we landed on Finding Dory.  I’d seen it before, thought Dory was hilarious, all forgetful and quirky.  Never really went beyond that, honestly.  Until that night slammed me in the chest.

     Dory, in case you somehow missed it, is this bright blue fish who can’t remember squat—names, places, even what she was just saying.  Every scene’s like Deja vu on steroids: confusion, panic, hope, and then—poof—she forgets.  It’s almost funny, until you actually pay attention.  Then it’s heartbreaking.

     Halfway through, Violet—she’s nine, big eyes, popcorn breath—snuggles closer under the blanket and just hits me with this look.  The serious one.  “Grandma, do people really have memory problems like that?”

     Didn’t see that coming.  My chest went tight.  All those times I’d watching Dory, and never once did my brain pull up my dad.  But right then, boom—there he was.  Clear as day.

      I felt a sudden tightness in my chest.  All the times I’d seen that movie, I never connected Dory to my dad.  But in that moment, I did.  Completely.      

     Her eyes searched mine, waiting.

     “Yes, “ I said softly.  “Some people do.”

     She was quiet for a minute.  Then, the next question, quiet but heavy.  ”Do you know someone who has memory problems like Dory?”

     Deep breath..  “Yes, sweetheart.  Your great-grandpa, my dad,  he does.”

     Her face just crumpled, like the news physically hurt.  “Great Grandpa?  really?  That must be awful.”

  “It is, I said.  No sugarcoating.  “But just like Nemo helps Dory, I help Great Grandpa.  I’m his memory now, I carry what he can’t hold onto and help him find his way.

     She leaned into me, blanket up to her chin, and whispers, “That makes me sad.”

     Tears welled in my eyes—not just because she said it, but because I finally saw it—this sorrow wasn’t just mine.  Somehow, it had tiptoed into her heart too, this kid who feels things deeper than most adults I know.  She was carrying a piece of it, without even having the words.

And right there,  in that quiet, heavy moment, I realized something—maybe that’s a blessing too.

Grief. Is unpredictable.  When you let someone in—really let them in—it’s it’s like building a bridge out of all those broken pieces.  Suddenly, there’s this space, almost sacred, where you just sit with another person (like Violet and me, huddled up on that old couch) and you don’t have to say anything.  No fixing, no explaining.  Just being there.  Just love.  That’s it.

     I always thought dementia was just a thief.  Like, it comes in the night and snatches away memories, abilities, any sense of control.  But, really?  Sometimes it brings stuff too.  It cracks you open, let’s in a different kind of love—the kind that doesn’t need words or even memories to be real.  You just get these strange, beautiful moments: a shared blanket, a kid teaching you how to be honest about grief.

     Maybe that’s what nobody talks about—the amazing grace of grieving together.  The way you find the guts to keep loving, even when everything feels like it’s falling apart.

Watching Violet take in Dory’s story reminded me that even in the midst of forgetfulness, there are anchors of love that hold us steady. Sometimes those anchors come through the words of a child, reminding us that joy and resilience live side by side.

Moments like these are the heart of my memoir—small glimpses of grace that carry me through caring for my father.

Why?

A month ago we had the privilege of hanging out with our two year old grandson, Griff. His mom and dad were in the hospital awaiting the arrival of a new baby sister. We had some very fun and very BUSY days as we navigated our high energy little grandson.

Like most two year olds he has a favorite game he likes to play. It’s called the ‘why?’ game. Now, this is not my first rodeo playing the why game—so I felt pretty comfortable in this arena. I managed to navigate through the endless why’s from my five kids through the years, so I dusted off the cobwebs from my old skill and put it to good use. I must say though, my grandson was a professional ‘why question asker’ and as the day rolled into a week, I was kinda thinking he might actually win the game. Little sister was not quite ready to face the world yet, or possibly not ready to hear the endless whys from big brother.

So—to win the game of course, you can’t just say “because, or because I said so.” You have to keep answering every why question with an answer until one of you gives up. The winner is the one who doesn’t give up. And let me tell you, after five days I realized that my rusty gift was well…rusty.

Toward the end of the week Griff was really tired. He didn’t want to stop all the fun we were having so he hadn’t had a nap all week. I announced that we were going to go and take a nap. We read our allotment of books, said goodnight to all our stuffed friends and I said “okay time to sleep”. And then he asked……

Why?

So I decided to pull the mom card and said, “Because your mommy said that your body needs to rest so you can have energy to get up and play some more.” I was bringing in a credible source to back up my answer.

“Why?”

“Because your body needs to recharge. Like when we have to plug in our phones to charge the battery.”

And this went on for many more repetitions. Him asking why, me answering . Until finally I said……..

“Because God made us that way.”

And of course he said…… “Why?”

I then stated…“Because God loves us.”

And there was silence. For about five seconds….. and then he said, “Oh, O-tay.”

What??? I won!!!!

Later I would think about that exchange and wonder what it was that made that answer the one that made sense to him. But then I started thinking about my own life and how so many times that answer had made sense when nothing else did. When my parents said be careful with what crowd you hang out with or eat your vegetables and not all that junk food. Or later in life when I needed to get more sleep or take better care of my health. All those things were because they were good for us. They protected us from bad things or bad outcomes. And it all comes down to God protecting us from hurt. And why? Because he loves us.

When my son came home from the hospital with his precious new baby girl, I gave him the rundown on all the fun things we did and all the funny moments we had gotten to experience with his son. And of course I told him I was exhausted from all the whys! Then, I didn’t mean to gloat, but I told him about me finally winning the why game with “because God loves us.” My son was silent for a minute and then he said….

“Huh.. I just ask him why back, and it confuses him and he forgets what the question was.”

Well maybe he could have shared that little tip with me before he left the “whyanator” with me!!

What God Says About Adoption

I am adopted. I don’t remember ever being told this, it was just something I always knew. I remember asking my mom one day when I was in seventh or eighth grade, when they had told me. She replied, “Since the day we brought you home. “ I rocked you every night and told you how special you were to us because we had adopted you.” Perhaps that is why I always truly felt special. Special, but not different. I had a mom and dad who loved me, a brother and sister who played and fought with me, Grandparents who gave me cookies for breakfast, aunts and uncles who were my second set of parents, and cousins that I cant imagine not having in my life. Someone kissed my boo boo’s and spanked my bottom when I was disobedient. I was just like everyone else. But I also felt like I was hand picked by God and placed exactly where he wanted me. I wouldn’t know how true that was until years later.

You see a few months ago I was reunited with my birth family. What an incredible gift! Their story, my back story, was beautiful and heart wrenching at the same time. As they shared their heart with me, I was deeply touched by the thin threads that God had chosen to weave together in my life. My “birth” grandmother has prayed for me every day of my life. My birth mother prayed over my bassinet that God would take care of me. Perhaps this made all the difference. On some level God reached down into this girls heart and directed my thoughts and I just knew, God had me.

So it got me thinking about how God feels about adoption. I opened my bible. Adoption in the bible contains both a legal aspect and a spiritual aspect. Legally it is simply having a new family. Spiritually it is a beautiful picture of our salvation.

As I dug deeper I discovered that there were people in the bible, people chosen by God, who were adopted.. The story of Moses is the first time we see adoption mentioned in the book of Exodus. Moses was born at a time when being a baby was a dangerous thing. The Pharaoh of Egypt made a decree that all baby boys would be killed. Moses’ mother put him into a basket and placed him in the river. Moses could have died, but instead God orchestrated it so he would be saved. Moses was found and adopted by Pharoahs daughter. I want to point out that Moses was not seen as “adopted”. The Pharaohs daughter took him in as her own and he was royalty. There was no question of his worthiness or his heredity. He simply belonged. Perhaps this was a foreshadowing of God making us an heir to Him. Moses went on to be an instrument of God. I have heard that story all through my life in church. What never struck me before was that adoption was God’s solution to mans killing of babies. What a beautiful illustration of our loving God, and how He feels about adoption.

Another person we see in the bible that was adopted, was Ester. Ester was adopted by her older cousin, Mordeciai, and he raised her as his daughter after her parents were killed. Ester went on to save her Jewish people from being destroyed. Again, God had a plan for her.

But here is the one that really gripped my heart. I had never even thought about it before, but the discovery was an incredible jewel.. Jesus, Gods own son, was adopted by Joseph. I cannot help but think that God finds adoption so beautiful that he wove it into his own son’s story!!

“Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me,” Such a simple verse, but it truly reveals the heart of Christ. Accepting children and regarding them highly was always at the core of His message. 

 “But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption. So you are no longer a slave, but God's child; and since you are his child, God has made you also an heir.” – Galatians 4:4-5 & 7. The bible is full of verses about being adopted by God as our road to salvation. God chose Israel among all the other nations to be a Father to them. And God refers to us as his children. He is our Father. God chooses to adopt us into his family through His son, Jesus.

I am adopted. I am no different than anyone else. Because honestly, we are all adopted. What it really comes down to is this. We are God’s. He simply entrusts other people to care for us.

Kind Words

About a year ago I had one of those days. You know the kind I’m talking about where you wake up without a care in the world, a smile on your face and your day begins to unravel from there. It was my day to hang out with the grand kids so I picked Violet up and decided to drop in on my parents and say hi. Violet loves to play the “marble game” and my dad quickly responded to her request to play with her. He sat on the floor laughing at Violet’s sweet and silly nuances. My mom was having trouble with changing all their automatic deposits to a new account number and asked for my help. I looked at the clock. Just enough time to make a couple calls and get to Ezra’s school to pick him up. I called the Veterans Admin and ran into a snag. Even though I had, months prior, filled out all the paperwork to become a legal voice for my dad, they couldn’t find the paperwork. They said they had to talk with him to get the information. My dad piped up and said today was a good day and he thought he could do it. With no other option I handed him the phone. To verify his identity they wanted information from 70 years ago! What was the exact date you went into the military, what was the exact date you were discharged? What was your id number and the list went on. My dad became confused. I became angry. I hung up the phone but my dads face had dropped. Violet tugged on his hand to play again, but my dad just shook his head and said, “not now”. Where there was once joy and laughter, in its place was sadness. I was angry that they stole that from him. I looked at the clock. Even if I hurried, I would be late to pick up Ezra. Something frowned upon.

I was filled with thoughts of anger and sadness, filled with grief that I had to abruptly leave, and feeling rushed to avoid the lecture I knew I was about to receive for being late. As I rounded the corner, there was an accident at the intersection. Oh great I thought. I had a quick fleeting thought that had I been running on time, I may have been in that accident. But soon I was back to brooding in my head about my upcoming lecture. When I arrived at the school I ran with Violet in my arms, the whole time playing out in my head the exchange I was going to have with said teacher. Let’s just say they were not kind and apologetic. The teacher smiled as I walked up and told Ezra I was here. That’s it. As I pulled out of the parking lot my mind was still unwinding. And that is when Ezra’s little voice came from the back and said, “Grandma, I love you.” And all the weight I was carrying lifted off of me. I actually let out a breath that I hadn’t even known I was holding. My heart melted. It softened. Kind words.

A week after that ordeal, my dad was in the hospital. He pointed to one of the nurses aids and said, “She has not stopped smiling all day. She is the happiest person I have ever seen.” From my vantage point I could see her walking up and down the halls and indeed she had a huge smile on her face. When one of the alarms went off in my dads room, she was the one to come in and turn it off. I told her what my dad had said, and I kid you not that girl smiled even bigger! She went on to tell us her story and before she left she said, “thank you , it means a lot to me that you would notice .” Kind words.

We don’t always give kind words, and we don’t always receive kind words, but the Bible is full of kind words to us. God says, “you are forgiven”, “you are my beloved”, “you are my heir”, “You are beautifully and wonderfully made.” “you are valuable.” Kind words can soften a heart. Kind words can multiply a joyous heart. Kind words can jolt you out of your negative head space, just like they did for this grandma.

Words are so incredibly powerful. If you doubt that your words have power, remember that God SPOKE the whole world into existence, and we are the only creatures on earth who God gave the ability to speak words.. King Solomon, author of most of the book of Proverbs, said this, “ Death and life are in the power of the tongue”. Proverbs 18:21 Words have the potential to produce positive and negative consequences. They have the power to give life through encouragement and honesty, or to crush and kill with anger and lies.

The old saying, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never harm me, is simply not true. Superficial wounds can heal, but often wounds from words tend to cut deeper and stay with us longer, being almost impossible to heal. Words being spoken to us as a child, especially before the age of six, have been proven to stay in our subconscious and direct our decisions and path in life. That is quite a bit of power!

The bible also tells us that words have the power to heal. Proverbs 16:24 Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul, and healing to the body. Praying for someone, encouraging someone, or building someone up are all kind words. Kind words can be a soothing balm to someone who has a broken heart, is grieving, or dealing with difficult situations.

It is up to each one of us to decide what we will do with this power of our words. Will we wield them as a weapon to kill someones spirit, or will we use them as a soothing balm to touch their heart? I am convicted in my belief that God knows the incredible power the spoken word has, and this is why……

One day we will stand before God and give an account for all the things in our life, and by our own words we will be justified, or we will be condemned. Matthew 12:36-" “I tell you, on the day of judgement people will give an account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.” This is a warning that we should measure our words carefully.

Never miss an opportunity to tell someone how much they mean to you. Never wait to tell someone you love them, because you may not get another chance. Too often we underestimate the power of a kind word, an encouraging word, or an honest compliment, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. At the very least it changed the course of this grandma’s day, and showered a little perspective on the things that matter the most.

Breakfast At Our House

I love my backyard. On any given day it is a flurry of activity. It seems Dr Doolittle lived here and no one told the animals he moved away…. I am entertained by the quail mom and dad and their little tiny babies following behind so diligently. I am amazed by the javelinas that let puppy lick their noses through the gate, and the cardinals stark red beauty that contrasts with the desert tans. I love the tiny bunnies that cause my grand daughter to raise her little hand to her face and declare, “oh how cuuuuute!”. But perhaps the most entertaining and charming inhabitants of my backyard are the squirrels. I am awakened on some days, in the early morning hours, with the plink plink of one of them running across the old piano on our back porch.

Throughout the day there is a constant comedy show going on as those squirrels climb the bird-feeder pole to get to the sunflower seeds stored inside, only to slide down fireman style in their attempts. One day we watched a young hawk stalking said squirrel, only to realize after a few attempts that the squirrel was way too big. Once Mr Squirrel realized this, he taunted him with silly tricks. Sometimes at dusk a great majestic owl perches in the tree overlooking our yard, and in the night we hear “hoo hoo, hoo, hoo”, lulling us to sleep.

Yet the most amazing thing to see, is all these creatures of God, live in harmony together. They share their food, their water and mingle together rubbing feather and fur. Our desert tortoise even shares his lettuce with Mr Squirrel, the two of them munching in perfect peace.

As I watch, coffee in hand from my kitchen table, I think, “why is it so hard for people to live in such harmony?” The commandment to “love your neighbor as yourself,” is often a difficult one. I don’t know if you ever had a difficult neighbor, but I think there is most likely one on every street. There is the nosy neighbor who watches everything and reports to everyone, there is the self assigned undercover HOA police one, who reports every tiny infraction, and there is the teenage boy who just got a drum set and invites his new garage band over at 1 am to practice! Eww it is soooo hard to love those neighbors!

But if I am really honest, one of the hardest things about loving your neighbor as yourself, is that if I truly loved them as I love myself, most days I wouldn’t be doing them any favors. I can be pretty hard on myself. It seems clear to me that the second commandment is two part. First, love yourself. Second, love your neighbor. Love your neighbor is the second commandment, and Jesus says it is like the first commandment which is to love your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. If we keep those two commandments in the proper order we can fulfill both, because a heart filled with love for God naturally overflows.

So, how do we learn to love ourselves? It’s actually pretty easy, but we have to develop a clear understanding of who God says we are. It is far from the worlds view of self worth which is measured by financial wealth, material possessions, social standing and beauty. Our true worth is found in the relationship with our Heavenly Father. We are a child of a God who delights in us and formed us in His very image, and loved us so much He had his own son give his life for us.

Once we have a clear understanding of who we are and our worth, we can then share that love with others. Having been forgiven ourselves, we can then forgive others around us. Knowing that God’s grace has been poured down upon us, allows us the ability to give grace to our neighbors.

When we understand that God created us all in his image, we get a better understanding of what God is trying to tell us in this commandment. If God is love, and we were created of Him, then we are called to love. As a parent we tell our squabbling children to be nice to their brother or sister. Well, God as our Father, is telling us to be nice to our brothers and sisters. When we do this, we are reflecting God’s character to them.

The animals in my back yard seem to know this. They have come to trust that we will provide for them seed and water, day after day. We will care for them and provide for them. We have proven to be faithful in tending to their needs. They don’t fight among themselves because there will be manna again tomorrow. Isn’t that what our Heavenly Father does for us? He showers us with grace. He forgives us. He provides for us, and He is faithful to us, day after day. When I truly feel secure in Christ, my heart is full and I have no need to squabble and fight with my fellow neighbor to keep my rank or justify my position.

When I look out my back door and see the newcomers to the block, the tiny chipmunks welcomed into the group, it makes me smile. God is teaching me a lesson. We can all get along in this world and live in harmony with each other. All we have to do is welcome our neighbors accepting their differences, and love them and see them through the eyes of our Heavenly Father.

Copy of Snake Holes

The grand kids were over for a few days while their new little brother was making his grand entrance into the world. It had been a few months since we had ventured off to the park because it has been a Looonnnng, HOT summer. But after building forts and Lego structures, making slime, playing with play dough, brushing ALL the barbies hair, and gluing anything and everything to paper, Violet announced, “LETS GO TO THE PARK!!!” So off we went…. in the still 100 degree weather.!

Violet was first out the door, which is a miracle in itself because she can never find her shoes when it is time to go. (side note: she was wearing big brothers shoes…I checked) Violets way to the park is through the desert. Off they scampered. When they got a little too far in front of us, we reminded them to watch out for rattlesnakes. This stopped them dead in their tracks. Suddenly every hole, every indention or divot in the sand, became a snake hole. As we made our way along the path, it became a bit like dragging puppy to the vet.

The conversation between my two grand kids went something like this:

“We have to be careful because these are GIANT snakes with huge fangs that like to grab people, right?”

“Ya, and they are just waiting for us to walk right here, right brother?”

As they kept outdoing each other on the “Godzilla” the snake stories, I kept trying to move the train along. I knew as long as they kept their gaze down, all they would see were snake holes, and we would never make it to the park! “Hey, look over here, who can see the park?” “First one to “eye spy” it WINS!!!!”. But they were transfixed, eyes to the ground, fear at def-con 5. Now mind you the walk usually takes 2 minutes, and we were pushing 15 minutes.

When we finally came up over the wash, there laid the park in all its glory. As soon as they came over the hill, shouts of glee kicked in and they were running through the grass to the play structure. I laughed out loud.

A couple days later, something occurred to me. My grand-kids and their snake hole episode, happens to all of us. I could see in my own life how I had let snake holes distract me lately. I had been minding my affairs, just working my side of the street, on my path, heading to my goal or at least an outcome, and I was distracted. Distracted by those dang snake holes. In my case the snake holes were tending to my parents medical and legal needs after their car accident, organizing my schedule to be on call for an “overdue” grand-baby’s arrival, and contemplating some big financial decisions.

Every snake hole seemed to get bigger and bigger in my head. There was worry, too many schedules to keep juggling, concerns in all forms, unknown outcomes, waiting for balls to drop, anger and stress. I hadn’t even realized that fear had decided to run the show and hijack my hope.. And there was God saying, “look up”. “Look over here”. “Remember where you were on your way to.” But I couldn’t get my eyes off those dang snake holes. Every minute that I kept focusing on them, they became bigger, more ominous and out to get me.

When I realized that I was doing in my own life, what the grand kids had done that day on the way to the park, I couldn’t help but smile. God had been trying to get my attention for a while, but I wasn’t listening. So he used my grand-kids to reach me. After my big aha moment, and recognizing the drastic similarities, there was one more surprise I realized, now that God had gotten my attention. In the garden of Eden it is a snake that depicts the devil and tries to mess with Adam and Eve. God was trying to tell me more than just keep moving. He was trying to tell me that if the devil can keep me distracted, then there is plenty of time for him to deceive me with fear and doubt. This trickery will surely keep me from getting to where I was headed.

Although I laughed at my grand-kids silly fears, I also wanted them to know that I would protect them. So I gave them a warning to be alert, and I wanted them to wait for me to walk beside them. When they started to get distracted and become fearful, I reminded them of their joy at where they were headed,

This is EXACTLY what God does for me!

This verse has new meaning to me and I cannot help but identify with it. “But at the end of that period, I, Nebuchadnezzar, raised my eyes toward heaven and my reason returned to me, and I blessed the Most High and praised and honored Him who lives forever; For His dominion is an everlasting dominion, And His kingdom endures from generation to generation.” Daniel 4:34

I have my own saying now….. “ If all you can see are snake holes, God might be trying to tell you to look up.”

Snake Holes

The grand kids were over for a few days while their new little brother was making his grand entrance into the world. It had been a few months since we had ventured off to the park because it has been a Looonnnng, HOT summer. But after building forts and Lego structures, making slime, playing with play dough, brushing ALL the barbies hair, and gluing anything and everything to paper, Violet announced, “LETS GO TO THE PARK!!!” So off we went…. in the still 100 degree weather.!

Violet was first out the door, which is a miracle in itself because she can never find her shoes when it is time to go. (side note: she was wearing big brothers shoes…I checked) Violets way to the park is through the desert. Off they scampered. When they got a little too far in front of us, we reminded them to watch out for rattlesnakes. This stopped them dead in their tracks. Suddenly every hole, every indention or divot in the sand, became a snake hole. As we made our way along the path, it became a bit like dragging puppy to the vet.

The conversation between my two grand kids went something like this:

“We have to be careful because these are GIANT snakes with huge fangs that like to grab people, right?”

“Ya, and they are just waiting for us to walk right here, right brother?”

As they kept outdoing each other on the “Godzilla” the snake stories, I kept trying to move the train along. I knew as long as they kept their gaze down, all they would see were snake holes, and we would never make it to the park! “Hey, look over here, who can see the park?” “First one to “eye spy” it WINS!!!!”. But they were transfixed, eyes to the ground, fear at def-con 5. Now mind you the walk usually takes 2 minutes, and we were pushing 15 minutes.

When we finally came up over the wash, there laid the park in all its glory. As soon as they came over the hill, shouts of glee kicked in and they were running through the grass to the play structure. I laughed out loud.

A couple days later, something occurred to me. My grand-kids and their snake hole episode, happens to all of us. I could see in my own life how I had let snake holes distract me lately. I had been minding my affairs, just working my side of the street, on my path, heading to my goal or at least an outcome, and I was distracted. Distracted by those dang snake holes. In my case the snake holes were tending to my parents medical and legal needs after their car accident, organizing my schedule to be on call for an “overdue” grand-baby’s arrival, and contemplating some big financial decisions.

Every snake hole seemed to get bigger and bigger in my head. There was worry, too many schedules to keep juggling, concerns in all forms, unknown outcomes, waiting for balls to drop, anger and stress. I hadn’t even realized that fear had decided to run the show and hijack my hope.. And there was God saying, “look up”. “Look over here”. “Remember where you were on your way to.” But I couldn’t get my eyes off those dang snake holes. Every minute that I kept focusing on them, they became bigger, more ominous and out to get me.

When I realized that I was doing in my own life, what the grand kids had done that day on the way to the park, I couldn’t help but smile. God had been trying to get my attention for a while, but I wasn’t listening. So he used my grand-kids to reach me. After my big aha moment, and recognizing the drastic similarities, there was one more surprise I realized, now that God had gotten my attention. In the garden of Eden it is a snake that depicts the devil and tries to mess with Adam and Eve. God was trying to tell me more than just keep moving. He was trying to tell me that if the devil can keep me distracted, then there is plenty of time for him to deceive me with fear and doubt. This trickery will surely keep me from getting to where I was headed.

Although I laughed at my grand-kids silly fears, I also wanted them to know that I would protect them. So I gave them a warning to be alert, and I wanted them to wait for me to walk beside them. When they started to get distracted and become fearful, I reminded them of their joy at where they were headed,

This is EXACTLY what God does for me!

This verse has new meaning to me and I cannot help but identify with it. “But at the end of that period, I, Nebuchadnezzar, raised my eyes toward heaven and my reason returned to me, and I blessed the Most High and praised and honored Him who lives forever; For His dominion is an everlasting dominion, And His kingdom endures from generation to generation.” Daniel 4:34

I have my own saying now….. “ If all you can see are snake holes, God might be trying to tell you to look up.”

Happy Fathers Day

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Well Instagram and Pintrest would both boast the same thing. A picture says it all. In today’s culture, pictures visually tell the story. But…… it only shows a glimpse of the REAL story.

What this picture doesn’t say is that at one time I wrapped my small hand around my dad’s finger, because his hands were too big for my tiny hand. And now, my hands wrap around his arm to help him walk on unsteady days.

It doesn’t say that when I was little I would search for him in a crowd by the pants he was wearing, and I would tug on them so he would pick me up so I could see above the crowd. And that through the years he would continue to lift me up to change my perspective on life and people.

What it doesn’t show is that my dad taught me to ride a bike, or that he taught my children how to ride a bike with the same gentle patience.

What it doesn’t say is that my dad is the most positive person I have ever known. For the past twenty years when I would call him and say, “good morning.” He would always respond, “and a beautiful morning it is!” My father, who woke up early to shake my lazy bones out of bed to get to school, was the same man who woke up early to take my youngest son to watch the sunrise over the ocean.

What it doesn’t say is that my dad has been a constant strength in my life. He was the support I always needed, the soft place to land, and the wise counsel I always sought. And even though some days he is confused, he is never confused about the matters of the heart. His wisdom is still intact, and he is still pointing my spirit to grace, love and faith.

What it doesn’t capture is that my dad is incredibly fumy and when he laughs it is with his whole heart. He makes everyone around him feel at ease because he accepts people right where they are. What it doesn’t show is the joy I now feel when I say something funny and get to hear his laugh.

What this picture cannot capture, is the man I see in him. A man who reflects the character of God.

Years from now when some great great granddaughter stumbles across an old dusty photo album and finds this picture of me and my dad, I wonder what she will see. She may not see what I see in my dad, or know his gentle heart or how much he means to me. But there will be a part of us that will live on through many generations, as we pass down wisdom, grace and our faith in God.

A picture may be worth a thousand words, but the treasures of the heart are worth many more. A photo fades over time, but the deep love that is etched on our hearts stays with us forever. This Fathers Day, may you capture every moment in your heart.

HAPPY FATHERS DAY

The Littlest Negotiator

We like to refer to our grandson, Ezra, as “the little negotiator”. From the time he was forming sentences he was negotiating on his behalf. It usually sounds like this. me: “Here Ezra, you can have two Oreos”. him: “Umm how bout five?” me: “How bout three?” him: “Okay, four is good.” He negotiates everything! Telling him to pick up his things, turns into a negotiation of what he can do after he picks the toys up. A statement of what we are going to do today, becomes a discussion on what we really should do, and why said thing is better. Usually those interactions end with, “Deal”?………… “Deal”! Now at five years old, he is really mastering the “art of the deal”, and he is teaching Grandma a thing or two. Mostly to be ahead of the curve.

Although it can be frustrating to have him always trying to run the show, I am actually glad that he knows exactly what he wants and is able to speak up to get it. The world can run you over if you don’t have a clear idea of what you want and go for it. Life is also about give and take, and the fact that he doesn’t throw a fit to get what he wants but instead is willing to '“give a little to get a little”, seems like a pretty good skill. He seems to know on some level, that negotiating isn’t about winning. It’s about being heard.

In my life I am not a very good negotiator. Partly I am sure, has to do with the fact that I don’t like conflict. I avoid it like a spam sandwich. In addition to that, I tend to be a rule follower, at least to some extent that may involve conflict. I am also quite stubborn and set in my beliefs, although I am trying to allow grace to play a bigger role in my life than my opinions.

Where I do see negotiation come into play, is in my walk with God. There have been times in my life when I have begged and pleaded with God, and yes negotiated. When my baby girl was having a long difficult surgery I told God if he would heal her I would be the most amazing God centered mom He could envision. There have been other times where I bargained for things from God promising to go to church more, pray more, give more and be more, if only he would do x y or z for me. It seems funny now as I write this, that I chose to negotiate with the one entity who is sovereign, just and has my best interests at heart, hands down. I think really what I was trying to say was, “this is so incredibly important to me, I will sacrifice anything for this”. I wanted to be heard, loud and clear.

God draws a hard line on what is best for us. He doesn’t make mistakes because He is truth and love. In the end His plans are truly what is best for us, even if the process to get there is a painful one, or one fraught with loss, heartache or challenges. There really are no shortcuts to becoming God’s best us. So although we may try to negotiate our position and therefore barter with God, what we are really saying is, “hear my heart God.”

It may surprise you to realize that there were some very important people in the bible that did negotiate with God. One such person was Abraham, when he pleaded with God for Sodom and Gomorrah. When God informs Abraham that Sodom and Gomorrah would be destroyed, Abraham bargains with God and asks that if a certain amount of people were found to be righteous, would God spare them. Abraham keeps bargaining with God until the number went from 50 righteous people to 10. This back and forth negotiating between Abraham and God saved Abraham’s nephew, Lot. I have to believe that God allows us to negotiate with Him, even argue with Him, so that we can interact with Him. He is not some entirely separate detached deity, but our loving Father who wants to hear our heart and our pleas to intercede for the ones we love. It may seem as if we can change God’s mind, but it’s more like God knew what He wanted to do in the end. Possibly to show His graciousness.

I imagine my grandson years from now becoming a master negotiator working for some big company, or maybe he will even become a crisis negotiator. He certainly has a natural bend in that direction. I guess what I learn watching him, is that it is important to know both sides of the coin. Know what you want, know what the other person wants, and find a way to give something of yourself to gain a little bit more of what you desire. Sounds like compromise. Perhaps our negotiating with God looks a little bit like that. To successfully negotiate with God, we need to know God’s promises. We need to understand God’s character, because God can never go against His word. When we know God’s side of the coin, we can align our desires with that. We can share our heart and know that we truly are heard. Who knows, maybe God smiles like I do when my grandson pleads his case. But in the end, I will do what is best for my grandson, and God will do what is best for us.

A Mothers Legacy

That moment when you first became a mother is filled with so much excitement, responsibility and the deepest love you can imagine. You know in your heart you will take care of, protect fiercely, and nurture with every bone in your body this child of yours, as long as you have breath in you. What you don’t realize, until you are much older, is that this is just the tip of the iceberg of what you have created. Becoming a mother is the start of a legacy that intertwines through many generations. It is a bond that ties to the past and reaches deep into the future.

When I became a mom it changed everything in the way I saw my mom. Holding my new baby in my arms I realized, “this incredible love I feel, is how my mom felt about me.” It seems silly, but it was something I could not understand until that very moment. When I rearranged my life and my schedule to be at every event my child was in, I realized that my mom had sacrificed so much to be there for me and cheer me on. When I dropped everything to make cookies, or sew a last minute costume, I remembered how my mom always came through for me, many times saving the day. When I stayed up well into the night pretending to be asleep until I heard the door click and my child arrive home safe, I understood the concern and anguish my mother went through when I would be late. When I stood at my sons wedding I understood the joy and yet the gaping hole I felt as another person would take my place. I learned more than I ever could have about my mom, when I became a mother.

I learned other things about my mom watching her be a grandmother to my children. She was an extension of me when my hands were full and my nerves fried. She stepped in seamlessly and picked up the task. She taught my children things I didn’t have the time to teach. She mothered them like she had mothered me. I am a grandmother myself now and I understand more now why she did all those things for my children. She loved them because they were an extension of me. They were her tribe. My grandchildren are just as much a part of my heart as my children. I love to hear their laugh, show them new ideas and new things, and I love to curl up with them on the couch and read books. I don’t want to miss a single moment loving on them. My mom was a constant in my children’s lives. I have learned so much more about my mom when I became a grandmother.

My mom is now a great grandmother. And although she is not as “hands on” in their life, she is still connected in a huge way to her tribe. She loves to hear me retell the funny stories and antics of the grandchildren. The grandchildren call her “Marble grandma”, because she has marbles of course! What time and age has taken away, faith and prayer has replaced. I can’t imagine a greater love and a greater gift than the prayer of a great grandmother to watch over and protect her grandchildren. I am not a great grandmother yet, but Lord willing one day I will be. The example that my mother has gifted me on how to be a great grandmother has taught me how to continue my own legacy of motherhood.

I realize now, that my mom has always been intentionally reaching out to the generations behind her and training us up. She has been giving me, (us) the foundation of faith so that we could withstand anything that came our way. This is what I didn’t know when I held my first baby in my arms, or the second, or the fifth. I didn’t realize what I was signing up for, or the enormity of it. I never imagined the incredible blessings that would be attached. This is my mothers legacy. My beautiful, loving, special mother.

Motherhood is an expression of the image of God. There are many scriptures in the bible where God is compared or related to motherhood. Here are just a few. God comforts as a mother Isiah 66:13. Protects as a mother bear, Hosea 13:8. Gathers as a mother hen Luke 13:34 and there are many more. If you have been called to be a mom, you are an extension of Gods love. This mothers day, it is my prayer, that you will honor your own legacy and plant seeds in your future generations. Happy Mothers Day!

Hopes End

Do you believe IN God, or do you BELIEVE God?

Sometimes don’t we all just feel a little bit like….. all those stories in the bible, all the people in those stories, they don’t really apply to me. I have REAL problems in current times!

I know we talk about God and his timing. We talk about his will. We talk about having faith. We talk about God redeeming and restoring what we have lost. As a believer we say these things because we believe in God. But do we actually BELIEVE God?

Holding on to hope when so many people in this world have broken their promises to us is very difficult. It’s hard to trust after trust has been broken. The human spirit has an amazing ability to keep hoping. It also has the ability to protect itself by building walls and being wary of promises. However, we can’t confuse the promises of common man with the promises of God. God is God. He is still on the throne. He always comes through. The Bible is chalk full of God fulfilling his promises. He has an impeccable track record. I can’t always count on the goodness of others, and sometimes I get discouraged and then I tend to see God through the same lens I see the broken world. That’s when I pull out my bible and read about God’s unfailing promises. What I find is that those stories from so long ago contain the same underlying struggles that I have. They leap to my heart, and restore my weary soul. And so I have to ask myself, “ Do I just believe in God, or do I believe God?”

Abram was told by God that he would be a father of many. In fact the name Abram actually translates to “father of many.” Sarah, Abrams wife, had not bore him any children. Abram believed in God. God spoke to him and made a covenant with him. But years went by and still Sara did not get pregnant. They were getting old. I mean really old! So what does Sarah do? She decides to help God out. So she gives her servant to her husband Abram to conceive a child. How many times have I believed, maybe I should be doing something to help God.? Maybe God needs me to act. What am I missing? So instead of being still and relying on the promises of God, I fire into action. God doesn’t need our help though. He needs us to believe Him. I imagine it was not easy for Sarah to believe God when month after month she was crushed when she did not conceive. Many of us know the heartbreak of that. I see myself in Sarah and Abram. I know the heart wrenching feeling of being at hopes end. My heart cries out, “God, have you forgotten me?” But their story doesn’t end there. The story ends with Sarah having a baby, and God fulfilling his promise, in His time.

Rahab hid the spies with a promise that God would protect her household when the Israelites stormed the walls of Jericho and killed all the inhabitants. After the spies left, I imagine her looking out of her window scanning the horizon for the army to come. But the spies stayed in the hills for three days once they left Rahab’s house, to evade the kings pursuit of them. Then they traveled back to the Israelite camp and crossed the Jordan river.. Joshua had to arouse the entire nation, cross the Jordan, held a ceremony to commemorate God’s faithfulness, had a circumcision ceremony, waited for them to heal, and then more time passed as they celebrated the Passover. I recount all this so you can get a glimpse of understanding of what Rahab must have experienced. Waiting is hard, especially when we see nothing happening. But can you imagine Rahab’s face when she finally looked out and saw the army coming? Her heart must have burst with hope and thanksgiving! And yet, then there was another delay. God had instructed the army to march around the walls of Jericho once, and do this for 6 days. Rahab knew none of this. I am sure this was not the rescue that Rahab envisioned. I see myself in Rahab. I would have been on an emotional roller coaster as they passed by the last corner of the wall each day, only to return to camp. Excited and then…. defeated. Full of hope, and then deflated. Its the feeling of being at hopes end. But God is not intimidated by our urgency, but driven by his purpose. He is less concerned about our wait, and more concerned about His timing, working everything for his good. Finally on the 7th day God fulfilled his promise and rescue Rahab and her family.

These are just two stories of many that I see myself in. I can identify with the heart breaking blow of feeling like your at hopes end. I find myself mistaking what I don’t see for an inactive God. When I don’t see activity I think maybe its a sign I need to go in a different direction. But God is saying, “Do you believe me?” There is a time span between when we fist believe the promises of God, and the moment that it comes to fulfillment. The amazing thing, that we sometimes overlook, is God is there in the in between as well.

When we finally come to end of ourselves it can feel as if we have come to hopes end. But that is when we need to ask ourselves the hard question….. Do I believe IN God, OR do I BELIEVE God?

My Brothers Keeper

The other day my five year old grandson Ezra stated boldly to me that he was his little sister Violet’s BIG brother. He went on to say that he has a very important job to look out for her and protect her. A little shocked at the seriousness of his declaration I quickly told him that, “yes, it’s a very important job, and soon you will have a little brother to watch out for too.” There was a quiet pause on his end. Wanting to not loose the moment, I kept the conversation going asking a few questions. “ So, is it hard to be a big brother?” He thought for a moment and instead of answering he asked me a question. “Did my Dad think it was hard?” I wasn’t sure how to answer that. I mean should I tell him that sometimes his dad didn’t want to be the older brother of 4 siblings? That he had a lot of responsibility and grew up with the unspoken understanding that he was the leader and setting the example? Or do I tell him that no it was easy for him so that Ezra doesn’t feel its just too hard of a task? I decided to take the middle road and responded, “ I think it was hard sometimes because he had four younger brothers and sisters, but I also know that God picked him for that position and responsibility because he was the best one for the job.” And then the moment was gone as Violet dragged his attention away to sing a silly song.

I think every parent wants their children to have a close relationship with each other. When they are little it means: wanting to play with each other, being kind to each other and sticking up for them. As they grow into their teen years it means: sharing their troubles and asking advice from them. It means protecting each other, and helping each other. As young adults it means: still wanting to be around them, being close to their spouse or girlfriend/boyfriend. It means being there for them in a crisis and wanting to call them first when you have good news to share. But how does this happen, and how does a parent help foster this?

The best answer I can give is the one that I experienced in raising my kids. I was outnumbered 5 to 1, and it turned out to be a blessing. I did not have enough hands and arms to meet all the needs all at the same time, so I entrusted my children to help each other. There were babies to rock, stories to be read and homework to be helped with and my children grew up knowing that they were needed to make the village run smoothly.. They became my extra set of eyes and ears to praise them on an art drawing or listen to their frustrating day, and this bonded them together. They had invested in their sibling and through the years they cared about their investment and nurtured it. This is not to say that there were not normal sibling disputes, but even those moments bonded them together. It warms my heart that as adults they have game night with each other, play volleyball, and go to each other for help and advice. They are their brothers keeper.

So what does it mean to be “your brothers keeper” ? The text this comes from in the bible refers to Cain and Abel, when Cain asks God if he is his brothers keeper. I feel he picked the word keeper to refer to the nature of Abel’s work. He was a shepherd who “kept flocks”. Keeping the flocks entailed protecting and defending them from predators just as David did. It’s interesting to see that God put Adam and Eve in the garden to cultivate it and “Keep” it. The Hebrew word shamar means, “to keep guard, keep watch and ward, protect, save life. That sounds an awful lot like Jesus. He is our good shepherd who laid his life down for his sheep. For all intensive purposes, Jesus is our brothers keeper.

It’s great that Ezra wants to be his sister’s keeper, and that he takes the job seriously. It’s great that my kids look out for each other and are each others keeper. Those are things that we try to teach and model at home, but it shouldn’t end there. I think God meant for us to expand that. In Luke 10:27 it says, Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself. The term brothers keeper does not just mean being responsible for the welfare of a a biological brother or sister, it’s scope is extended to all the other human beings, no matter their race or ethnicity.

We are our brothers keeper when we share practical help to those in need, speak the truth in love, and share the gospel with others. As I told my grandson Ezra, at times it can be hard. At times we don’t want to be a leader of others. And as my daughter would say, “Mom, I DON’T want to be the bigger person!” But we were hand picked by God for this purpose. He called us for this position and responsibility because he knew we are the best one for the job.

Can God Use Me?

When we think of God using us for His kingdom, we tend to think of all the Godly and good qualities we have. We tend to think that we can only be good ambassadors for Jesus if we have led a life without blemish….. or at least without some big blunders.

I hear you. I am right there with you. My life, my past, is far from blunderless. It took some real, deep soul searching, for me to see how God feels about this, and I want to share that with you.

I am a mother of five. I have messed up too many times to count, and on occasion I have rallied. I know what it means to live in the dirty trenches of motherhood. I was awarded on some days the “mom of the year” award, and on other days, I was a complete failure, and set my kids up for a life of therapy. I know the roller coaster life of being a mom. If I had to be a perfect mom to help other moms, then I would never be able to share my story. But God uses my weaknesses and mistakes to come alongside other moms and say, “ Ya, me too.” “i know how that feels” and “ God’s grace covers that.”

I was divorced. The stigma and emotional pain others cast on me, and honestly sometimes still do, threatens to stop me in my tracks. My very own emotional pain of breaking a vow before God made moving forward so hard for me. I had a choice to make. I could let the shame consume me, or I could receive grace from God and let him use my wounds for his glory. The emotional pain and deep scars make me a prime candidate for telling others that, “God still loves you, that you are forgiven, and you are His.”

I have been in an unhealthy relationship. I have lied and manipulated because I felt I had no voice. I hid the truth from those that loved me and cared about me, because I felt such shame. I know how it feels to be scared and alone in my dysfunction. I know the horrible feeling of digging so deep that you come to the bottom of yourself with nothing left. I know the damage my choices have made on the people I loved most in the world, and it broke my heart. I could forever feel condemned by those choices, or I could see it as an opportunity for God to exchange my wounds for wisdom. I am uniquely equipped to understand, what most can not, about abusive relationships. I can say, “ Grace was never meant to be given so that sin can abound.” and “ You are already amazing and God’s plans for you include plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

I have carried the suitcase of unforgiveness, and I have known the enormous weight of it. I have struggled with the ugliness of bitterness and resentment only to find that it kept me mired in the pain. I have known the joy of finally being able to release my tight grasp on it and hand it into the Lord’s outstretched hand. I can come along side others and say, “You can never achieve true forgiveness in your own strength, it is only through the holy spirit moving in you that you can release it’s grasp on your life.”

You are God’s natural resource. Everything you have gone through, all the heartache, mistakes and or joy you have had, make you positioned exactly where God can use you. It’s not about God endorsing our sin, it’s about Him turning it around and using it for His glory. Genesis 50:20 You meant evil against me, but God used it for good.

If you are struggling at all with the weight of your past, or if you are holding someone’s past against them, I want to encourage you to read the story of Rahab in the bible. Rahab was a prostitute. Hardly a poster child as an ambassador for God. But God picked her, and she picked Him. Her one act of believing that God was who He said He was, propelled her in a new direction. It literally changed her life. She hid the spies who would storm Jericho and in the end she married one of the Israelite, Solom, and she had a son. That son was named Boaz. Boaz was the kinsman redeemer who redeemed Ruth, an outcast, and married her. Their union created a son named Obed, who had a son named Jesse, and he had a son named David. King David. Further down the lineage you will see a son named Jesus. This is where it really gets good. This was my aha moment. Rahab was an outcast and was given a second chance. So where do you think her son Boaz learned about the second chances of God? No doubt Rahab modeled this to her son. Boaz then takes Ruth, an outcast, giving her a second chance. King David knew first hand the grace of God. And Jesus? Jesus was all about giving the outcast a second chance! The family tree of Jesus was filled with people who messed up. God didn’t care about the pedigree, He cared about people who would turn away from their past and have a heart for Him.

I can’t help but feel that God puts a great value on experiences. After all, He sent his son to earth to experience pain, hunger, betrayal, loneliness and suffering. He did that so that He could say, “I know how you feel”, “I will help you through this.”

You were never meant to be a prisoner of your past. It was meant as a lesson, not a life sentence. Your experiences have made you uniquely qualified to show the grace of God. When we can say, “yes, I have been there, and I am standing here today because of the great love and mercy of God,” then we can give hope to the hurting and be true ambassadors for Christ.

Prayer For The Little Girl That Would Become My Son's Wife

Many years ago, when my children were little, I kept a journal for each of them. I wrote down, from a mothers heart, all the things that made them who they were and how honored I was to be chosen to be their mom. I also included for each of them a prayer for the little boy or girl that they would one day fall in love with and marry.

My middle son, Bishop, was just married last week. I shared at his wedding the prayer I had written, when he was 3 years old, for his future bride. I was deeply moved and humbled to stand before his new bride, knowing that this was the little girl that I had asked God to watch over and bless. God is so good and he fulfills his promises in ways we can never fathom. God answered my prayer. His bride, Angela, is everything I prayed for and so much more. I wanted to share this excerpt from my son’s journal.

Dear Bishop,

I tucked you into bed tonight wearing your tigger pajamas, coon skin cap and tigger slippers. You insisted on wearing all of them. When I said the raccoons might come in and nibble your ears, you laughed. I love your laugh. As I left your room I thought how blessed I am to have your smile and hear your laughter everyday. This led me to think of you as a young man. How amazingly lucky is the girl that you will eventually give your heart to. She and I will have something in common. We will both know the joy of loving you. She is out there somewhere. God knows exactly who she is. This is my prayer for that little girl, my son’s bride.

Dear God,

You know the beginning and the end. You planned on us before you made the stars. There is a little girl out there that will capture my son’s heart. I know you will never take your eyes off of her. But from a mothers heart, I pray these things:

Please give her a mom that tucks her in at night and says her prayers with her, because then she will know that there is a God who loves her, cares for her and listens to her.

Please give her a mom that kisses her scrapes and cuts when she gets hurt. Because then she will know compassion when someone is hurting.

Please give her a mom that hugs her when she spills her milk or breaks something. Because then she will know what forgiveness is.

Please give her a mom that will hold her hand when she crosses the street, because then she will know how it feels to be safe in the arms of another.

Please give her a dad that will yell and scream when someone treats her unfairly, because then she will know that someone has her back and that she is worth fighting for.

Please give her a dad that tells her she is beautiful, strong and amazing, because then she will know that she is beautifully and wonderfully made by the very hand of God.

My little boy will hold my heart forever. This little girl will hold his. Keep her close to you God.

Amen

Becoming More Like Violet

My little grand daughter Violet teaches me so very many things. She is only three, but her heart is so pure that I cannot help but adore her. She teaches me about God everyday. She makes me see clearly who God is and how much He loves us.

She will search through a sea of people frantically looking for me, never swayed in her determination to find me. She knows I am there. When she spots me from afar, her eyes light up and she runs to me with a huge smile on her face. She throws her arms around me and exclaims, “Hold me Grandma!”. She makes me feel as if I am the most important person in her life.

And this is how I want to be with God. When my life is crowded with people and distractions I want the desire to frantically look for God. I want to have the faith to KNOW that He is there. I want to feel the joy of finding him and the exhilaration of running to his arms and asking Him to hold me. I want Him to be the most important thing in my life.

Violet is a strong willed spitfire. She is full of energy…. and a little bit of vinegar. ( Not so different than me.) She likes to do what she wants to do. When she graduated to a booster seat in the car, she could unlatch the seat belt by herself, which she did… often. On one occasion while driving into the neighborhood she popped her seat belt off, stood up out of her car-seat and started jumping up and down in the car. She got a stern talking to. I don’t remember what I said, but every time we are in the car she says, “remember grandma, that one time I took my seat belt off before we stopped and i got in trouble with you?” “I am NOT going to do that again!” And there have been many times she has sat in “time out” on my watch. There were just as many times she cried about it, and I thought sure she would be mad at me. But bless her heart, she doesn’t see me as a mean grandma at all. She knows she messed up and knows it is my job to correct her out of love.

And this is how I want to feel about my relationship with God. I want to know I am loved despite my mess ups. When God calls me out on my sin and gives me consequences for them, I want to see that it is out of love. I want to learn from my mistakes, so that I can please God. And mostly I want to know that no matter how many times I slip up, that God will still love me.

Violet is all about the blingy, sparkly tiara wearing world. I captured on video the very essence of her. She was decked out in a princess dress, wearing more pearls than you can find in the ocean. She wore a princess rhinestone tiara on her head. She was singing “Let it Go” at the top of her lungs twirling and dancing watching her beautiful reflection in the oven door. I love to see the delight on her face as she gazes at her reflection in the mirror. She loves who she sees. She loves who she is. She twirls this way and that way with an enormous grin on her face. She knows that all of us, grandma especially, delight in her.

And this is how I want to feel about myself. I want to sing out loud and not even notice if anyone is watching and I want to not care what they think.. I want to look into the mirror and smile. I want to see myself the way God sees me. I want to not listen to the world that sets my beauty standard, and not let my worst critic, myself, determine my value. I want to know that God delights in me, that he created me, beautifully and wonderfully by His very hand. I want to feel the overwhelming acceptance that God delights in me, the one created in his image.

My grand daughter knows I have her back. I love knowing that she feels she can always count on me for all the things she desires. There is no place she loves more than to be at Grandma’s house. When we work on art projects she will announce, “I REALLY wish I had some glitter.” and viola….. Grandma has glitter. When her poor little tummy is growling…. Viola…. Grandma has her favorite cookies. When she really wants to make slime or play-dough……. Viola…. Grandma has all the ingredients to do that. Wherever we are and wherever we go, she KNOWS that Grandma has gum and candy in her purse. She believes that Grandma will always come through for her.

And this is how I want to feel about God. God promises to fulfill my needs and to give me the desires of my heart. God has always had my back. He has always provided for me, even when I was sure there was no way things could work out. He not only has given me my basic needs, but at times has gone above and beyond and fulfilled the very desire of my heart. I want to KNOW, deep down in my soul, that God is who He says He is. That He wants for me all good things in life, and that He will come through for me.

Perhaps this is why the bible says, “ Then Jesus invited a little child to stand among them and said, “ Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Mathew 18:3 . My grand daughter Violet believes without complication. She is humble and receives joy with lighthearted abandon. She is content in the little things and yet awed by majestic splendor. As an adult I have been changed by the concerns of the world. In all it’s brokenness sometimes I lose sight of God’s promises. Violet comes to us, her family, as a child. She trusts us to provide for her, protect her and she trusts us to cherish her.

Becoming more like Violet to me means seeing God as my loving Father. A Father whos love is not dependent on my good performance. A Father who delights in me. A Father who supplies all of my needs and the desires of my heart. It means coming to Him with my arms wide open and saying, “Hold me God, you are everything to me.”

God's Favorite Thing To Do

Yesterday we picked our grandson up from school. He is in all day kindergarten. It’s a long day for a five year old, and lately it has been taking it’s toll on him. I could tell the second I saw him that he was not his bubbly self and my heart sank. He was quite and his sister was babbling on, singing and excitedly telling him every detail of her day. He was frustrated and short with her, so I told her to give him some quiet time to himself. After driving in silence, (that never happens) his small voice came from the backseat. “Grandma, what is God’s favorite thing to do?” I was taken aback. Actually speechless or stumped are better words. I thought about it for quite some time. I wondered why the answer eluded me. I rattled off some lame answer….”to love?” But I knew that wasn’t quite right. Violet must have decided quiet time was officially over and the nonstop, excited chatter resumed and the moment was lost.

Later that night as I was doing the dishes, it all of the sudden hit me. “I know what God’s favorite thing to do is!!” “To create!” I am a creative soul. If it doesn’t move in my house, I paint it. If I trip over the guitar, I will get lost in playing it. If I want pretty soap I have to make it, and if I have a story to tell I have to write it. I am most alive when I am creating. It moves me. Maybe that is why I was most surprised that I couldn’t rattle off immediately to my grandson what God loved most to do.

Maybe your not like me. Maybe you don’t see a blank wall and have to fill it. Maybe you don’t have a feeling so strong you have to sit down at a piano and write a song about it. Maybe you don’t collect paint tubes because you have to have all the colors, and maybe you don’t see junk on the side of the road and have to re-purpose it! But there is another form of creating that I want to touch on. God gave us an amazing gift, the gift of free will. And in that gift was packaged the likeness of him. Creativity. If we are truly created in his image, then that part of him is in us. Every day we have a choice to make. In those choices we create the life we will have, or the life we want to have.

We can choose to be thankful for all the things we DO have, or we can choose to see all the things that are missing. Choosing gratitude creates a life of contentment and fills us with joy. Choosing to focus on what we don’t have creates a life of sadness and displeasure.

We can choose to forgive those that have hurt us, or resent those that have done wrong to us. Choosing to let go and forgive creates a place that brings peace and love back into our heart. Choosing to hold onto resentments creates an environment where bitterness and hurt control our hearts.

We can choose to see the good in circumstances, or we can choose to feel like a victim. Choosing to see the blessing in the mess creates a place that allows us to move forward and grow. Choosing to see the negative creates depression and hopelessness.

We were never created to be just characters in a storybook. We were designed to be heirs to the Master Artist and to create a life that illustrated the very hand of God woven through it.

I called my grandson on the phone that night. He said, “Hi Grandma.” I said, “Hey buddy I figured out the answer to your question. God’s favorite thing to do is….. CREATE!” He giggled a soft giggle and said, “You are right Grandma.”

"She Never Let's Me Do, What I Want To Do"

God bless my beautiful little grand-daughter. She cracks me up….

When the grand kids spend the night, we have these two little pup tents that are their sleeping space at bedtime. Violet’s happens to be in the living room. One night I tucked her in and after her story and song, I noticed she was chewing on something. Gum…… I told her she couldn’t sleep with gum in her mouth. No response from her but a turning of her head in the other direction. So, I told her the story of her auntie Rye Rye who I let go to sleep holding on to silly putty in her hand. When she awoke it was the strangest sight. All her hair was scrunched up tight on the side of her head in an awkward freaky way. Yep, that silly putty had made its way into her hair and caught every little piece of it and tangled it into one blob of a ball.. It took us hours of peanut butter, oil, and finally, gel bug and tar remover to get it off her head. It took the jaws of life to free her from the silly putty!!! I thought I had made a great convincing argument, but Violet, my grand-daughter, clenched her jaws tight. Finally I put out my hand and said, “give it.” At which point she defiantly, and with attitude I might add, said, “I don’t have it anymore.” Hmmmf! She had swallowed it. I gave up my mantra and said, “ Goodnight, I love you sweetie.” Then I moved to the couch and proceeded to read my book. And then I heard someone talking. “She never let’s me do what I want to do!” What??? As she repeated that like eight more times, I was like, she is talking about ME! This went on for quite some time, and shock turned to complete laughter that I had to stifle.

The idea that she was angry at me when I was trying only to protect her from harm, was so misguided and made no sense. Well she is three so…… But then I think about my life and my walk in the Christian faith, and I realize that I, like many of us, do the same thing.

When someone says things about me that are untrue, I want to defend myself, prove my point and battle my injustice. But God says, Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trail, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him. James 1:12 and God also says, But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those that curse you, do good to those that hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you. Matthew 5:44

When someone wrongs me or hurts me, I want to hurt them back. I want them to feel the same pain they caused me. I want to get them back. But God says, Do not say, “I will pay you back for this wrong,” wait for the Lord and he will avenge you. Proverbs 20:22 and also…. Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always strive to do good for each other and for everyone else. 1 Thessalonians 5:15 There are many more verses on this subject, but you get the idea.

I don’t want to forgive someone that has hurt me deeply. I want to hold that grudge and let them know just how wrong they were. But God says, Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:32

And there are so many other examples I could give you. But why does God ask of me that which completely goes against my nature and my will? All of these things God asks of me are not to be mean, they are actually his way of protecting me! Just like the ten commandments. It makes me sad when people say the ten commandments show a bossy, controlling or conditional God. All ten of the commandments are meant to protect us from harm. When we break them, it brings grief and despair, not to mention the consequences we will have to live with.

Our God is a loving God, who cares deeply for his children. God, who is perfect, all knowing, all-powerful tries to guide us to make good choices that will protect us from harm.. But God gave us something more. He gave us free will to choose whether or not we want to heed his warning. It’s not a matter of, “He never lets me do what I want to do,” its that once you try it your way a few times you get really tired of pulling silly putty out of your hair.

I love my grand-daughter. I don’t want her to suffer the harsh consequences of actions she does not know will come from certain things. She is three, and it is my job to protect her. If a grandma can love her grand daughter so much, how much more can our Heavenly Father love us? When I listen to God, He tells me that same kind of thing. I have a choice to do it my way, or listen to the one who is trying to protect me.

What's Taking So Long!!!?

It’s been five months since my last blog…. And as someone said, “What’s taking soooo long?!!! We love to say that in our house. For everything…. It all started the weekend the grandkids stayed with us. We spent the day flitting from play dough to arts and crafts, to cooking rock tea in the play kitchen out back, to playing at the park. When I finally got to dinner, we were all pooped. My grand daughter Violet sat perched in her red high chair while I made the final preparations for dinner. She sat with a fork in one hand and I spoon in the other and pounded on the table letting out an exasperated, “WHAT’S TAKING SOOOOOOOO LONG?!” My immediate reaction was to strangle her, but instead all I could do was laugh. Don’t we all feel like that at times? Don’t we all wish we could be so honest and say it? Since that day the whole house says it in times when we are frustrated and impatient and somehow it feels better to say it out loud. We always end up chuckling.

Since that moment I have had plenty of reminders that things are not happening in the time that I want them. My nature says I want them now, God says wait.

This summer we took a road trip with the grand-kids. They kept asking if we were almost there, how much longer was it going to be, and of course, WHY IS IT TAKING SOOOOO LONG!!! It was a long time for them to sit still in their car seats. It was a lot to ask that they to be good, quiet and patient. It was hard. But when we got to our destination it was amazing. They had so much fun and did so many fun things that it was hard to see it end. It was worth a little bit of waiting for the reward at the end.

Waiting is hard. Waiting in a no passing zone behind a car that is going 15 miles under the speed limit is hard. Waiting in the grocery check out line behind someone who is using 30 coupons and can’t find that last one is hard. Waiting for your birthday to arrive when your 5 is hard. But waiting on God can be one of the most challenging of hard things.

And so it seems with my life lately, there is a lot of waiting. Don’t we all feel that with unanswered prayers or opportunities that seem to be on the brink of not sure yet? I just went through this with my youngest daughter. She was set to ship off to the Navy. We said our goodbyes, dropped her at the hotel and showed up the next morning for her swear in ceremony. When we arrived she informed us that there was a problem with her medical discharge. So we were told to wait. We waited while all the others shipped out and then we were sent home. We were told she would ship on a different date two weeks later. We waited. Then we were told she would ship the next month pending a waiver that was to come in. We waited. It’s the waiting that is so hard. We all were feeling WHY IS THIS TAKING SOOOOO LONG! But at that moment I knew that God was really in control. I knew that more than anything I wanted God’s will over my desires. But my heart wanted my daughter to have this so much. I was in a constant tug of war with my earthly heart and my heavenly soul. To say that I prayed constantly is an understatement. My mind was consumed with petitions to God to close a door if it was not the path he wanted her on. Honestly, also my prayer was, help me to be okay with your will. God closed that door to the Navy for my daughter. Everyone was shocked. And I was left with my greatest fear. Accepting God’s will.

It seems we are always waiting for something. That vacation we planned, or the raise to come in, or even our new shoes to break in. What is it about waiting that is so hard? It is so much easier to be walking than standing still. Just ask a three year old to sit still and wait for a bowl of candy to be passed around until it is her turn. That’s us with life. We want things now, and sometimes, God wants us to wait.

We easily accept and embrace when God builds hedges around our path. We want God’s protection against things that would hurt us, and when he slows our pace we feel uncomfortable but we keep moving. It’s when he brings us to a stop that we cry out, “God, are you there?” What we fail to see is that sometimes when God says “not now” or “not yet” it is for our protection. Or it may be because there is something else he wants us to learn first. Struggling through the waiting lately has taught me one more thing about God, probably the most important thing. Waiting on the Lord of my life requires my complete dependence on God. It also requires a willingness to allow Him to decide the terms and the timing of his plan. It is in this place that I develop a deeper dependence in the character of God. God becomes a living and breathing presence inside of me as I let go of my tightly held desires and expectations and hand them over to him. It is the ultimate gift of trust. And I think…. this is what faith is in action. Perhaps this is why the bible talks so much about waiting.

Time is a precious gift. If you don’t think that’s true ask someone who just buried their child or someone who just got diagnosed with terminal cancer. What they would’t give for just one more day, more time. When we spend our days worried and frustrated with waiting, we are abusing time, and time is a special gift from God.

Seasons of waiting reveal where we put our trust. “God works all things together for his good.” Romans 8:28 If there is one thing I have learned over all the speed bumps of life is that I would much rather have God’s plan for my life than whatever I can muster up. God’s plans include making my life flourish, keeping me safe, and giving me hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11.

We will still say in this house, “WHAT’S TAKING SOOOOOO LONG!!!!” Because it’s funny and it makes us laugh. But our heart will feel a deep sense of peace waiting for God to reveal his great plan. “But as for me, I will look to the Lord, I will wait for the God of my salvation, my God will hear me.” Micah 7:7

Following Jesus

Kids love to play hide and seek, and my two grand kids are no different.  At two and four they are quite the champion hide and seekers.  Now most kids don't like to be "it".  So I couldn't quite figure out why my grandson always WANTED to be "it" until I overheard a conversation he had with his little sister.  She was crying because she didn't want to be "it", and like any of us have done, (or still do), she said she didn't want to play anymore.  That's when I heard big brother tell her, " Violet, it's SO easy to find grandma.  All you have to do is find  Puppy and that's where grandma is hiding!"  As i picked my hiding spot I looked down and sure enough, there was Puppy, tag wagging like a beacon flag, announcing my position.  I tried to shew him away, but he only wagged his tail harder and began to dance around and bark.  So much for hiding.  We laughed about it when Violet "found" me, and Ezra said, "Grandma, Puppy sure loves you, he follows you everywhere."

This thought struck me later.  I love Jesus.  I follow him everywhere.  But when people find me do they also find Jesus?  Or am I an obstacle in their path.  Do the people who know me know that where I am, Jesus is near by?  Do my friends and family know when they are faced with a hard situation or difficulty in their lives, that they can call me for encouragement and prayer?  Do they know I follow Jesus.

What if someone followed me around all day with a video camera like they do on those annoying reality TV shows?  What if they documented my every word, facial expression and action.  What if they showed that footage to the world?  Would they see that I was following Jesus?

And that's where my heart just sinks.  You see I want to be a Mom that is peaceful, but I become fearful and irritated when my teenager makes bad choices.  I want to be a grandmother who is patient, but I become exhausted with the constant correction and teaching of obeying.  I want to be a person of gentleness and and self control, but then when I'm driving in my car I hear myself say to the car in front of me, "What are you doing?  First day driving?"  I am convicted.  It's hard being a die hard Christian when my sinful nature keeps getting in the way.  I wish that loving Jesus somehow transformed me into a person that was perfect all the time.

Here is the good news!  The gospel is so strong, it is so powerful, that the person telling it does not need to be perfect.  Jesus's power is not limited to my performance.  That truly is good news, because this earthly body of mine is prone to sin just like everyone else.  And maybe that's the point.  Maybe the gift is in the fact that Jesus is for everyone.  Even broken me.  I can follow him and mess up and there is grace.  So much grace.  I follow Jesus not to be perfect, but to love him perfectly.  I can say, "hey, I'm not perfect, but let me introduce you to someone who is."  

When I am hiding I want Jesus to be the one that rats me out.  Whether it be my passions, my gifts, or my self pity.  Psalm 139 says, O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my thoughts even when I’m far away. You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord.  

As I wander through the house making circles through the rooms, Puppy is right at my feet.  The family jokes about this, but now it reminds me something else.  It reminds me of how the Lord never leaves my side.  As my grandson said, "Puppy sure loves you, he follows you everywhere."  And now I can say, "God sure loves me, he follows me everywhere."

Fathers Day Pie

My Dad will be 88 years old this year.  I have had my dad in my life guiding me, nurturing me, correcting me and standing beside me for more than 50 years.  As Fathers Day approaches I realize that a lot of my close friends and relatives wont be able to celebrate Fathers Day with their dad.  Not because they don't live in the same state, but because their dad has gone to be with our heavenly Father.  The older we get the more we realize what we perhaps took for granted in our younger years.

Every year for Father's Day I bake my dad a peach pie.  Anyone who knows my dad knows that pie is his VERY favorite meal.  It took me years to perfect my pie baking skills, and I am sorry to say that my dad was the unfortunate taster of my journey to perfection.

For many years my dad was out of town for Fathers Day, getting out of the valley of the "so hot sun melt your eyebrows off" state.  But even when he wasn't here,  without fail I would bake him a peach pie, snap a photo and send it to him.  I would then give the pie to "a Dad" in honor of my father.  This year I will get to give my dad the REAL pie!  

This Fathers Day I will celebrate God giving me one more year with my Dad.  One more year of laughs, smiles and hugs.  One more year of his guidance, wisdom and tenderness.  One more year of seeing the joy on his face when he looks at his grandchildren.  One more year of watching him delight in his great grandchildren.  I soak it all up and cherish every moment, because I know that many people don't have that chance anymore.

It really doesn't matter if your dad is 50 or 100.  None of us know how long we have on this earth to enjoy the people we love.  Life happens in an instant.  Life is interrupted in an instant.  We should love fiercely the people we cherish in our lives, because God could call them home at any given moment.  We always think we have more time.  

So wrap your arms around your Dad.  Tell him you love him.  Laugh with him.  Enjoy every moment with him.  And maybe make him a pie, because this year my pie isnt up for offer.  My pie going to MY Dad.