(originally written April 2010)

Tiger Tails…

I can still picture it, though I’m not sure of the name of the place – its as clear as day in my memory. We visited the establishment (my dad, my sister and I) on a semi regular basis in the mornings, on our way to school.

When my sister and I were still very young my dad would get us ready for school on the days that my mom left for work early. Sometimes that meant we weren’t quite ready in time to eat breakfast at home. Two little girls can be complicated for dads – there is hair to brush, and tights to get on and so on and so forth… We knew we were in for a treat when we came into the kitchen if my dad was putting the cereal bowls back into the cupboard.

Tiger tails were in our future.

My dad would drive us to this little donut and coffee shop on the way to school – My memory wants to call it “Mister Donut”? We would go in, enveloped in a haze of smoke mingled with the aroma of strong coffee and pick out our breakfast. Every time my sister and I would get a tiger tail. This was a long, braided sort of donut – of chocolate and white goodness, with a crisp glaze on the outside. They were wonderful, usually fresh and would melt in your mouth. I don’t ever remember picking anything else. not once.

Because of my life as I know it now, I can sincerely appreciate my mom’s diligence in putting out those cereal bowls every morning. But cereal is not as memorable as a tiger tail.

There are so many little memories like this that I share only with my family. Good ones and bad ones. There are only three people on earth who have known me from the beginning, close and personal, seeing all kinds of ups and downs. God has been good to me, to place me with the family I have grown up with. But, It hasn’t always been easy.

Not so long ago, in fact it was difficult. Circumstances grew very complicated and we were divided. When I think back on it now, I’m not sure how I survived. There were many days where I would look back on a few of those sweet memories and I thought I would die – The separation hurt terribly and I wondered : would I have a chance to make any more memories? My heart felt swollen and bruised. That’s all I really want to say about it, because I don’t wish to hold onto any of the bad – only the good.

One thing I do know. I wasn’t really alone. Even in those dark moments that were filled with tears, heart ache and confusion, there was someone there. I experienced His presence and affection in the deep void of my heart, where I had known love. He was there as my family when I needed it the most. It was confirmation of Scripture: There really is a friend who is closer than a brother. (Prov. 18:24)

I carry the love of a fresh donut with me even to this day – or maybe its just the precious tiger tail memory that I love. Soon my family will be meeting with my sister’s family and my parents for a vacation at the beach. (Secretly I’ve been wondering if they have tiger tails there!) No matter! I am prepared to make many new memories that we will cherish for years to come.

Thank you Lord, for my family. and for being a part of that family.

I read a story with my son today.  It is one of my favorites from childhood.  The illustrations are wonderfully drawn with vivid colors.  As I read it, I heard the words for the first time.  I remembered the tale well enough, but it took on the form of a parable for me…

Have you heard the story of Petunia before?

Petunia was a goose – a silly one, who found a book.  She thought she knew what it was, so she toted it around for days because she had heard her farmer say that someone who treasures a book is wise. Everyone in the barnyard assumed that she was knowledgable because of that book.  The animals asked her for all kinds of advice.

And she gave it to them.  Faulty words based on an incorrect premise.  She had not read the book or any book for that matter;  Petunia could not read.  Worse, she was not wise at all and did not know it.   All the while she marched around the farm, with a proud strut, carrying the book.

At the end of the book, she realizes she is not smart.  I read these words with my own mouth today, and they sounded so different to me than when I heard them as a child…

(from the story “Petunia” by Roger Duvoisin)

“Now I understand.  It was not enough to carry wisdom under my wing.  I must put it in my mind and in my heart… And to do that I must learn to read.”

The application to my heart and mind happened quickly.   How often I think I’m wise, just because I’m around good people and do good things.  I have an “olive tree” app on my iphone.  There is Christian music on the CD player in my mini van.  Oh yes, I’ve got all kinds of wise things that I’m carrying around under my wing.  But, it’s not enough.

The path to true wisdom, all wisdom, is God’s word.  He wants me to love it, know it, think on it, talk to Him and everyone else about it – in the morning when I first get up, during the day when I need to make decisions, in the afternoon when I have a bit of quiet time and in the evening hours before I go to bed.  Yes, that is His desire for me, if I am to be wise.

Psalm 1 says this:

¹ Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take
or sit in the company of mockers,
² but whose delight is in the law of the LORD, and who meditates on his law day and night.
³ That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither— whatever they do prospers.

I’m not there yet.  I think because I spend a few moments in the morning and the evening, I should walk around strutting my stuff.  When really, I’ve barely begun the reading. Thankfully there are very specific words in Proverbs 3 just for people like me.

Proverbs 3:1-6 says:

¹ My son, do not forget my teaching, but keep my commands in your heart,
² for they will prolong your life many years and bring you peace and prosperity.

³ Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck,                                                               write them on the tablet of your heart.

⁴ Then you will win favor and a good name in the sight of God and man.

⁵ Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;

⁶ in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.

These verses are promises for peace and prosperity, for favor with God and man.  But do you know what else?  He promises that while we are still trying to understand it all, He will make our crooked paths straight. HE will always help us figure things out.  There is hope for me and all believers who are longing for His wisdom!

I’ve spent many hours over the last several weeks, digging through closets, tearing up storage spaces looking for something important. Not long ago, in a conversation with my mom I realized I didn’t know where it was and panicked.  It’s the childhood photo album my mom put together for me.   There are 1000 memories in there, and I couldn’t afford to lose them.

Tonight I found it.  In my children’s bedroom closet.  What a relief.  As soon as my kiddos were in bed, I took a long, slow walk down memory lane.  It seems the photos transport me in time and I’m there once again.  Of course, some are more significant than others…

There’s my fifth birthday party, complete with my little best friend,  a new Powder Puff, pink Big wheel and  a cherry chip cake, my favorite.  I can taste that cake.  right now.  The cake was special; there were coins wrapped in foil, hidden and baked inside, like a treasure hunt!  What a wonderful place that five year old birthday is…

Another  photo catches my eye.  Its my first voyage on the Maid of the Mist.  The Maid of the Mist is the name of the boat ride at Niagara Falls that takes you right up close to the bottom of the Falls.  The rain coats wreaked.  I can’t tell you what they smelled like, but I remember the odor well.  At any rate, the boat gets so close to the falling water that the roar of the water landing in that great basin is deafening.    I might be eight in the picture, standing there with my family, like a little drowned rat, at the end of the ride.  Its something I will never forget.

But, there is a piece of paper in the album that holds a significant place in my heart.  Its a letter hand written from my great grandma, “GG.”  The body of the letter is written in rhyming couplet form, written in August 1984. My favorite portion of the letter are these four lines:

I hope you have time to write to me,

I wish you were here like you used to be.

I love you a bushel and a peck,

Fifty kisses and a hug around the neck.

This was her way of expressing that she missed me.  That she loved me.  As I read it tonight, I shed a few tears.  The memories are so poignant that I can hear her laughter.  I can remember the last time we spoke over the phone on my birthday just before she passed.  I can feel that hug around the neck she’s promising.  She left this earth for heaven quite a few years ago, but  I still miss her so much.  Its a pain in my heart that I don’t think will ever go away until I see her in Heaven someday.

Her expression of love in this special letter, reminds me of another love letter.   Memories from my recent spiritual history, of my Savior’s love for me, come rushing in…

This is from a time when I felt like I was being eaten alive by the events of the day, but He said this to me:

Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.(Lamentations 3:22-23)

And this one from a morning when I needed emergency back up to make it through the day:

The bolts of your gates will be iron and bronze, and your strength will equal your days. “There is no one like the God of Jeshurun, who rides across the heavens to help you and on the clouds in his majesty. The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms. (Deuteronomy 33:25-27)

But there is one that fills me and warms my heart, radiating all through my being.  When I need it, it reminds me to think on His love for me:

And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love,  may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:17-19)

All of these favorite Scriptures – all of this spiritual memorabilia is tangible evidence of His love for me and how good He has been to me.  His letters, that have so much meaning for me, are His way of loving me, for now.  More than ever I look forward to seeing my Savior’s face someday.

I had no idea just how wonderful finding that old photo album would be, its earthly memories, with heavenly prospects strengthen, revive and heal my heart and soul.   Thank you Heavenly Father for this precious, beautiful gift.

The strangest thing happened this morning.  I went to Publix for my Saturday grocery run.  Just like normal.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  It was a lovely peaceful morning as I walked through the doors, coffee from Panera in one hand, grocery list in the other.

I took my time,  wandering through the store gathering the items on my list.  I examined produce, searched for Michael’s favorite coffee and discovered boneless skinless chicken breasts on sale.  The deli counter  was calling my name, so I stopped by for my new favorite – Boar’s Head lacy Swiss cheese- exactly a third of a pound, thinly sliced.  All in all it was turning out to be a blissful experience.

When I had finished cruising through the frozen section and the dairy cases, I headed to the checkout.  Now, at Publix they are very friendly.  There is someone waiting to check each item, and another clerk waiting to bag your groceries.  Their service is amazing.  It just so happens that the young woman who was my cashier also is a friend of mine.  She is always so kind and when I see her there, we usually catch up a bit.

As my groceries were being bagged she happened to mention she’d been enjoying reading my blog.  I was so flattered and told her thank you – that I was enjoying writing these days.  I’m sure I blushed a million shades of red.  By this time, there were others waiting, so I had to scoot on out of the way.   Well, a young women was ready and waiting to help me to my car with my groceries.  Did I mention Publix is my favorite?

And this is where it happened.  the strange part…

Hold on. I h]ave to explain something first.  In my life, long ago, my sister and I spent a lot of time with my Aunt.  We called her Aunt Betsy – she was the sister of my grandma. I loved going to her house because she always made delicious things to eat – especially these soft, warm little chocolate chip cookies.  Sometimes we even stayed over night.   One time my sister shoved me right out of the double bed we were sharing… but that’s for another blog post…

At any rate there is something very important you need to know about Aunt Betsy.  Even when I was young at 8 or 9 – I recall her talking about the Lord.  All the time.  To everyone.  Everything was about Him.  It was very curious to me back then and I remember thinking it was so unusual.  She had a gentle spirit about her and she spoke kind, uplifting words. When I got a bit older I would wonder how that happens?  How does someone end up talking about the Lord all the time? And I wished it would happen to me…

But, its never really happened to me.  I’m not able to talk about the Lord freely in front of people, unless I’m sure they want to talk about Him too…  And I have a lot of fabulous excuses, but all they do is create as many holes in my testimony as my new favorite lacy swiss cheese…  I’ve questioned what’s wrong with me.

Back to the unusual part of my morning.  The young girl who was helping me to my van asked, “So, you’re a writer?  what do you write about?”  And…. it happened!  For the first time ever!  I did not know this girl.  I had no idea if she wanted to talk about Jesus.  But we did.  I told her about His work in my heart and how I share it on my blog so that others could know about Him too.  And we talked about it for a few minutes – she didn’t seem to have the typical “church lingo” down…  Unbelievable.  I wasn’t nervous.  I wasn’t uneasy.  The words just rolled off my tongue like it was meant to be.

And it was.  What I’ve learned from Scripture and my sweet Aunt Betsy’s example is this: The more I think about Him, and the more I talk to Him, the more He fills me up to overflowing.  And the more that happen, the more He will spill out onto those around me…

Ephesians 3:

16 I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, ¹⁷ so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, ¹⁸ may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, ¹⁹and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.  ²⁰ Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, ²¹ to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

As I begin to understand His love,  I experience His fullness and then, and only then He can do immeasurable, amazing things!  Not the least of things, my experience today.  Its amazing that I’m 35 and today, it all began.  I started my training, at Publix.

amen.

As a child I grew up with a choir in my house.  Not your typical group of singers, mind you. I, at age five was the conductor of a professional singing group.  of mostly stuffed animals. Yes, its very true.  Their choir loft was our couch in the den and  I loved to conduct them.  I would set them up in their appropriate sections, the dolls in the soprano section and the larger dogs and bears were the tenors and basses.  Once in a while my sister, Marilyn would sit in with the altos.  If it was Marilyn’s turn to conduct, I’d always join the bass section.

This all came about because I had a superb role model.  Watching my dad direct our church’s adult choir, and youth choir was just a part of my regular, every day growing up.  My sister and I were there for most of the rehearsals on Wednesday nights and Sunday afternoons.  I thought it looked like a fabulous occupation and wanted to be a part of it.

In bold attempts to be like my dad, I’d put on records ranging from The Children’s Bible Hour  singers to the Robert Shaw Chorale singing the Messiah.  With music flooding the house, and my chorus in place on the couch, I would wave my arms wildly, singing at the top of my lungs, pleased with the whole production.  I think I was the original little monkey…

Truly, there is no greater form of flattery than imitation.  I loved my dad and wanted to be like him. I still do.

Recently I’ve noticed something going on with my own children.  Particularly my little Isaac.  I didn’t figure it out at first.  He loves to play games on the ipod, on the wii, on the computer.  Oh, and he’s good at it.  But, he begs for it.  He wants to hold the iphone in his hands all the time.

And then a lightbulb went on.  He wants to, because we do.  Clearly,our actions have lead him to believe we value it, and so he places it at a high level of importance.   Its not that ipods, iphones, computers, or wii games are bad.  They aren’t.  But they have put my heart and mind on notice.

My sweet little boy Isaac is going to imitate. He is my little monkey and I call him that quite affectionately sometimes; we have a lot in common, he and I do.  yikes. I have to choose more carefully what I am doing as his example.   Yes, I realize that this is basic parenting 101, but I forget it all the time.  I can’t make the same choices in front of my children again and again, all the while hoping they will act differently than me.

What am I really saying?  I am going to have to be more like Christ, valuing what He values, conforming my actions to His will.  I know in my heart of hearts that the more I spend time with Him, the more I fall in love with Him, the more I will become like Him.  But still, its not easy.     I love how Paul tells of God’s grace, given to him when he needed it in the middle of tough stuff.  His words are really my only hope…

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.                   2 Cor. 12:9&10

I ate my lunch today with the background music of my sweet baby doll wailing.  She had gone down for her afternoon nap and everything was just fine.  The coast was clear.  My other children were otherwise occupied in quiet time activities.  So, I thought I could sneak in some lunch.

It started low, with a murmur.  Just a tiny objection, really.  But it escalated quickly to loud crying. Crying and screaming, in fact.  Now in case you feel like I should be reported to Children’s services, I promise, I am a good mother.   I had changed her diaper.  She had just finished her lunch.  She had her blanky and bappy (that’s what she lovingly calls her pacifier).  We even sang her bedtime song.  All should have been quite fine.  but, no.  She did not want to sleep, even though she needed to.

Now, my sweet little baby girl has some stamina.  She is very strong willed, with a large dose of tenacity.  I don’t know where she gets it.  She continued the strain.  The minutes ticked by slowly. With a strong voice she let me know just how much she did not like my plans for her, even though an afternoon nap is in her best interest.  Listening to her struggle and fuss broke my heart a bit, I love her so.

Well, I have to be honest here.  I do know where she gets it.  Let me tell you how much I would love to blame this on my husband, but truly – I am very strong willed.  My parents had to read James Dobson’s “The Strong Willed Child”  after my birth, I’m told.  I can be bull headed and stubborn with the best of ’em.  When my Heavenly Father makes plans for me that are in my best interest, but I don’t like them, all too often I let Him know.  I cry, I “pray”, I complain, I try to escape. And  sometimes He just has to let me cry it out, knowing that what He has for me is better than what I want.  Its a slow and painful breaking of my will.  I’m sure it breaks His heart just a little, He loves me so.

from Proverbs 16:

2All a person’s ways seem pure to them,
but motives are weighed by the LORD.

³ Commit to the LORD whatever you do,
and he will establish your plans.

⁴ The LORD works out everything to its proper end—
even the wicked for a day of disaster.

The good news:  in a battle of wills, His is always the strongest and the best.  I would do well to remember these verses when I have doubts.  What I want could bring disaster… But, allowing Him to establish a plan for me, that is when I can be sure things will turn out right.  Its a difficult thing for a hard headed girl like me to remember.   I guess I probably need to memorize it, so I can teach it to my sweet baby girl who takes after me…

Heavenly Father, Thank you for patiently showing me Your path and teaching me Your will.   Let me remember that Your way is always best, especially when I begin to fight it.  I don’t know where I’d be without You… probably somewhere on the wrong path.  amen.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight.

My little boy Isaac is 3 and a half now. He has a fairly sunny disposition and I enjoy his personality very much. Most of the time he is very spunky and has a great sense of humor. That is until around 2 in the afternoon.

Some days we can make it past 2 and survive the rest of the day without a quiet time- but most days we can’t. And so, I enforce the quiet time rule for his own good. To be honest, its also for the sake of my own sanity, but I have other reasons too.

You see Isaac and I share something around 2 pm each day. Its almost so special, I don’t want to share it – but I will. When Isaac has grabbed up his blanket and favorite toy of the day to take to his nap, I snuggle him in his covers and I tell him an Isaac story. It begins with “Once there was a little boy named Isaac…” and typically it tells the tale of our exciting day so far. But it always ends with, “Isaac’s mommy and daddy love him very much.” and a hug and a kiss and an “I wuv you mommy! see you in the morning!”

And so I am happy to enforce quiet time.

Right now, if I look out my window there is about six inches of snow on the ground. Here, in Chattanooga, six inches. Its a winter wonderland and its beautiful. But its also debilitating. I don’t think there are more than 5 people in our city who own shovels – and the city owns even fewer plows. When snow falls in our southern part of the country, no one goes anywhere.

What does that mean for our family? Our weekend plans have been nixed. Not only did we have the regular weekend plans such as grocery shopping, laundry and church services on Sunday. There were also big ticket items on our agenda like a wedding, installing a new garage door opener and putting away the last of our Christmas decorations. Yes, we had a very busy weekend planned and now we don’t.

Instead, we will be home, together with a new and improved low-key agenda. A little hot cocoa, some monopoly, a good story book or two, possibly a movie, naps; there’s nowhere to be and nothing else to do. It makes me wonder. Is this God’s way of enforcing a quiet time with me? Is he hoping I’ll crawl up in his lap and rest so he can whisper to me a “Melody story”?

I know there have to be times when I reach the proverbial two o’clock mark in my life and He has to be hoping I’ll stop and be still with Him for a while. So often I don’t. I keep going. I keep running in over drive – and don’t make time for Him to bring peace to my heart and mind.

Psalm 23 is a reminder of His desire for my rest:

He makes me lie down in green pastures,

he leads me beside quiet waters,

He restores my soul.

He guides me in paths of righteousness

for his name’s sake.

He longs to find a way to give me rest and to have a quiet moment alone together – to tell me the story of how much He loves me. And so, I believe the snow is here this weekend as a reminder for me to rest, to be still, to enjoy time with Him. Its a gentle reminder from the original quiet time enforcer.

(originally written January 30, 2010)