who knows?

blazing messenger

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He’d been away from Egypt for some time, tending sheep.  A prince, who had become a shepherd living with the Midianites, he was hiding from his past.   But, he was an Israelite – one of God’s own.   I’ve always wondered if he thought he was hiding from God on the back side of the desert…  or did he even know he should be hiding when it happened?  or that there is no hiding from Him anyway?

Regardless, there it was, a Voice, calling out his name, from the middle of a bush that was on fire but not consumed. Out in the middle of the wilderness. absolute nowhere.   Well, it actually turned out to be Holy Ground, which is a lot more than nowhere. a lot more.

In Exodus 3, as the story unfolds, and God narrates his plan of deliverance for the Israelite people, He tells Moses that he is an intricate part of the plan.  On this side of the epic tale, it all seems quite natural to me that Moses would do what God is asking.  Back then Moses had a lot of excuses to roll out, before He accepted the call and obeyed.

I see Moses as a hero. He saw himself as completely unable.  Every Sunday School story, shows him to be a leader.  But He felt like a stutterer.  History declares his name as the leader of the Israelites who parted the Red Sea – but at the time, Moses seemed to think it was quite a risky business.  And who wouldn’t?

Tonight I’m sitting here on the couch thinking.  My Christmas tree has dainty white lights glimmering.  It is not ablaze and there’s no voice coming from the center, but I wish there were.   The year 2012 will always be framed in my memory as a year of decisions.  Lots of them.  Hard ones, at that.  For once, I’d love for some nearby shrubbery to burst into flames, but not be consumed.  I would be grateful to hear His voice boom out precise directions so that I could just know what to do.

Who am I kidding?  In my heart of hearts I know the truth. Even now, I’m weighing every ounce of the decision in front of me.  I’m as much caught up in my humanity as Moses was, prepared with the logical reasons of “why not.”   And I’ve got a lot of them.   All of these excuses are making it difficult for my heart to warm up to His answer. In fact, it has taken me a while to hear Him speaking.

This Christmas tree is a symbol of life and joy- His life beginning here on earth- also reminds me that He came so that I could not only have abundant life, but so that I could have His example to follow.  I hear Him whisper, “Follow me.”  His request, made loud and clear in Scripture, he repeats gently here and now.   And I feel His message begin to burn, from the inside of my very being.

“Follow.”

Its easy for me to hear the beginning of Moses story and think, “Of course He should answer the call,” because I know from Scripture that it all turned out and God fulfilled the promises He made to Moses.  At this point of decision, not knowing how my story is going to end, I’ve allowed doubts to creep in where they don’t belong.  But, in these moments of peace, Moses story becomes my own. I can hear the Heavenly Father’s promises, whispered to me.     And I can sense the presence of the Holy Spirit, which is a fire that does not consume.

I know I must follow farther, harder, deeper, longer.

Heavenly Father, As I prepare for this season of Advent, will you secure my wandering heart again?  Fill me with the knowledge that you have an ending to my story far better than I can imagine or plan.  Give me strength to follow you even through the most difficult decisions.  amen.

Uncategorized

Giving Thanks.

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Happy Thanksgiving, from our family to yours!

(My apologies.   I forgot to click the “publish” button yesterday.  But, its never too late to give thanks, even if the Christmas carol have begun playing.  right?)

It was in the fourth grade, sitting on the gym floor of Northridge Elementary School in London, Ontario that I heard it for the first time.  Every week the entire school participated in an assembly.  It was  sweaty and smelly and hot. Its certainly not the first place I think of when I meditate on God’s goodness.

But, as a little “american” girl, who had just moved to a new house and started attending a new school, with new classmates and a different routine,  I remember singing the hymn as clearly as if it happened yesterday.  For me, in those moments where everything felt foreign and a bit uncomfortable, I could still turn my heart towards Heaven and think about the good things.  And there were a lot of those good things to think about.  It was my first experience in learning to give thanks, in all things.

My life is so different from those times in London, and yet it is still the same. When difficulties arrive at my doorstep, when changes intrude on my comfortable spaces, He is the very one who heaped blessings on me then and He continues to now.   Whether counting my physical or spiritual blessings, there is no doubting that I am a rich woman.   And still, in this blessed season of life, I’m learning to give thanks.

With the beautiful thoughts below, I wish you the happiest of Thanksgivings…

For the beauty of the earth,
For the glory of the skies;
For the love which from our birth,
Over and around us lies;
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

For the wonder of each hour,
Of the day and of the night;
Hill and vale and tree and flow'r,
Sun and moon, and stars of light;
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

For the joy of ear and eye,
For the heart and mind's delight;
For the mystic harmony,
Linking sense to sound and sight;
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

For the joy of human love,
Brother, sister, parent, child;
Friends on Earth and friends above,
For all gentle thoughts and mild;
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

For Thyself, best Gift Divine,
To the world so freely given,
For that great, great love of Thine,
Peace on earth and joy in heaven.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This, our hymn of grateful praise.

Happy Thanksgiving from our home to yours!

a bit of history · in my kitchen

rabbit

melodyannday1 Comment

I have a Thanksgiving memory  from my childhood.   Its stands out head and shoulders above the rest and I will never ever forget it….

I was probably 12, or so and we were spending the holiday with my dad’s family in Iowa.  My mom and aunts, my mammaw and my GG had been cooking and preparing for days it seemed and now the day had arrived.  The big feast was just moments away.

The table was set.  Everything smelled so good… and then it happened.  My GG came in, from her house across the way, with the food she had prepared.  And I heard her say to my Uncle Larry, “I brought Peter with me.”

Now, my uncle had been out hunting recently.  And little did we, the kids, know that he had caught a rabbit.  But as the women began to set the food out, the story of the rabbit unfolded – and at the end of the tale he was laid to rest, in a casserole dish, right there in the middle of  our Thanksgiving table.

I’ll give you a minute to absorb this information.

Of course, my mother encouraged my sister and I to take a spoonful of it.. to try it… we might like it.  and there it sat – a helping of bunny casserole – on my plate.  It seemed to be ruining all of the other wonderful, delicious food I had selected.

I sniffed it, I stared at it. But I could not bring myself to taste it.  So, in case you’re wondering what rabbit tastes like – I have no helpful information coming from my own experience.  However, I hear it tastes like chicken, but a bit gamey.

Life is like that Thanksgiving plate for me sometimes.  So many incredible things make up what is known as my life – more than I can count, really.  But there, in the middle – sitting like that lump of rabbit, I assure you there is a problem, a complicated situation, its a painful trial that I’m going through. And I would like to scrape it off of my plate into the trash so that there are only nice things.  Only the tasty blessings, nothing unsavory, please…

But, this is not the plan God has for us…  Trials and pain are often on the same plate, being served up along side large portions of blessing.  And He asks us to be grateful, joyful and rejoice in all things.

James 1 says: Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.

Philippians 4 says:  Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!

I must admit – that I think of my difficulties in the same way I did the rabbit.  No thank you… Where’s the garbage can, I need to get rid of this.  I want no part of it.   But today, the day before Thanksgiving I realize that He is calling me to be thankful, not just for the wonderful, but for the difficult too.  Even the rabbit.

Heavenly Father, Help me to find a new place of gratitude.  Soften my heart to your Words – that every gift is perfect and it is from You.  Forgive my ungrateful heart.  Give me the grace to change and a steadfast heart to remain thankful.  amen.

md

(originally written Thanksgiving 2010)

a bit of history · friends and loved ones

snowballs

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I can’t describe my disappointment when I heard that Hostess was going out of business.  It was heartbreaking for me.  Not because 18,000 people lost their jobs, although that is a depressing thought for all of those employees right around the holidays.  Not because my children will probably never eat a twinkie, although word on the street is that the twinkie will survive Hostess’ demise.  I was not devastated for either of those reasons.

Its the snowball.

Every  time we spent the night with my great grandmother, GG, the hostess snowball, a chocolate covered, cream filled cake covered with marshmallow and coconut, was the favored treat of choice.  Who else but GG would  feed small children a snowball and coke for a bedtime snack and then manage to get us to go to sleep?   Snowballs were soft and moist, sweet and delicious.  And we loved them.  But not as much as we loved GG.

After looking at a couple of stores last night,  I realized I probably wasn’t going to find any snowballs on the shelves of our local grocery stores.  GG passed away more than 20 years ago, and there are times my memories of her are crystal clear, as if I spoke with her yesterday.  But there are other moments where I can barely summon the sound of her voice.  The snowball’s disappearance from the world signals one more piece of GG slipping away.

With these thoughts in my heart, panic ensued.  Losing a loved one is hard.  Losing the memory of them is even harder.

Last night, I had to come to terms with it.  again. “Please Lord,”  I begged.  “Help me.”    How can it possibly be okay to let go of the snowballs?  of the summer happinesses from my childhood that I want to hold close to my heart?

After I let my heart ache for a while, and I shed the necessary tears, He reminded me, as He is so faithful to do, “This is not the end.  This life is just the beginning.  GG is not gone, she’s with Me – and someday you will be too.”

Often I hold on tightly to the material things – as if I all I have is this life and the physical things that adorn it – the snowballs and everything else I enjoy.  But, it isn’t true.  This earthly, mortal life is just a blip in eternity.  I am an eternal being. And so are we all, including my precious GG, who is in Heaven now with our Savior.

The promise of eternity allows me the privilege of letting go without fear or anxiety.  Instead, I can focus on the hope He gives;  Life everlasting with Him for all the saints- for all who believe .

I find comfort in these words this morning:

from 1Peter 1:3-9

3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4 to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that does not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, 5 who are kept by the power of God through faith for salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.

6 In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials, 7 that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ, 8 whom having not seen you love. Though now you do not see Him, yet believing, you rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, 9 receiving the end of your faith—the salvation of your souls.

Truthfully, I intend to look a few more places for one last Hostess Snowball, just for fun.  But life and happiness don’t hinge on it.  If I don’t  get to taste one again, and that little piece of GG slips away, I know I will see her again.  And there is so much strength and peace in that thought today.

Here’s hoping there are a few snowballs in Heaven – if there are, I know GG and I will have one together some day.

********************************

This post is dedicated to my cousins and my sister, from the Young family, who sat at GG’s table late at night eating treats:  Danielle and Branson, Nate and Becky and Marilyn Young.  and Mason, who didn’t get to meet GG yet- but will someday.   

who knows?

make up

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(originally written on October 13, 2010)

For my birthday I received a starter kit of Bare Minerals makeup.   I’d been considering the change for some time.  See, I’m 35 now and, when I look in the mirror, I see things I don’t like. Even with the best of lighting there are laugh lines, crows feet, wrinkles, uneven skin tone.  I’m not really interested in everyone seeing all of this in progress, so new make up it is!

The compliments have been amazing.  “Wow! Your face is glowing!” and “Your skin looks so great!  I can’t believe you’re 35!”  Just what a girl likes to hear.  No matter what the truth is.  Age is creeping in and leaving its mark on my face.  Just because I’m good at hiding it, doesn’t change the facts.  Those blemishes are there. Trust me.

I’ve become good at hiding stuff.  Not just on my face, either.  When I head out to church or anywhere else, I put on  a similar mask.  I disguise the things I don’t want people to see.  Like what, you ask?  Well, I’m good at putting on a jovial cover in order to hide my pride, or my judgmental spirit.  Maybe I put on a little “extra spirituality” like a cheery cheek color, so you won’t notice my flaws.  Its embarrassing, but true.

I have a lot of shortcomings.  I know them.  When I take the time to look, my imperfections glare at me in the mirror of Scripture.   Perhaps God was prepared for me in my situation because He talked about me in James:

Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. 23Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror 24and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. 25But the man who looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues to do this, not forgetting what he has heard, but doing it—he will be blessed in what he does.

Truthfully, I’m still working at understanding this Scripture.  I know that God, through His Holy Spirit, continually speaks to me.  He sees me as I am and knows me.  It is his job to continue the work in my heart,  helping to smooth away some of the wrinkles and blemishes that I have acquired.  Rather than covering them, He wants to help me remove them.   At the end of the process, by His power, I’m able to move with freedom, learning to follow Him.  When I look into His mirror, I can see a little bit more of Him and a little bit less of me; a lot more of the beautiful complexion He desires for me, rather than the imperfect mask I create.

The good news is this:  He loves me as I am and continues the work, regardless of where I am in the process.  I can come to Him no matter how my heart looks. With a bit of confession and a repentant heart, I experience the best beauty treatment ever.

I have a favorite old hymn that reminds me of His promise to receive me and love me as I am…

Come, ye sinners, poor and needy,
Weak and wounded, sick and sore;
Jesus ready stands to save you,
Full of pity, love and power.

I will arise and go to Jesus,
He will embrace me in His arms;
In the arms of my dear Savior,
O there are ten thousand charms.

Come, ye thirsty, come, and welcome,
God’s free bounty glorify;
True belief and true repentance,
Every grace that brings you nigh.

Come, ye weary, heavy laden,
Lost and ruined by the fall;
If you tarry till you’re better,
You will never come at all.

Heavenly Father,

Thank you for this unconditional offer of love.    Help me to receive your words of truth, no matter how difficult, and walk in them.  Keep me looking for You in my mirror – until the glorious day when my mask or any need for makeup will be gone completely!

amen

 

in my kitchen

the promise of turtle cake…

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A while back on the blog, I relived the brief, yet unfortunate trial from my childhood known as raisin pie.  Oh how I do not like raisin pie.  From way back then, until now – I still feel that raisins in pie will always be terrible.  just terrible.

But, I promised – at the end of the blog about raisin pie that I would share with you the recipe of turtle cake – and so I thought I’d make good on my word.   As I’ve been thinking about raisin pie and turtle cake I came to a realization…  the experience of raisin pie makes the thought of turtle cake that much sweeter.  hmmmmm….

It is that way in my life as a believer too.  No matter what the difficult circumstances, the hardships present or past – I probably won’t ever think they are fabulous.  No, its not likely I’ll embrace them with fondness.  But, as I walk through them day to day, one thing is true; the trials and heartbreak make Jesus so much more lovely, more wonderful.   As He fulfills His promises of peace and comfort, justice and mercy, I am drawn to Him.  The struggles become peripheral, and I find Him at the very center of my heart’s delight; the truth of who He is, absolutely decadent.

Whatever happens there is always the promise of Him, His never-ending goodness and His unswerving faithfulness.

Psalm 37: 3-5

3Trust in the Lord, and do good;  Dwell in the land, and feed on His faithfulness.
4 Delight yourself also in the Lord,  And He shall give you the desires of your heart.
5Commit your way to the Lord,  Trust also in Him,  And He shall bring it to pass.

Lord, May I find your lovingkindness sweeter than life.  Let me dwell on the goodness of your will always.  amen.

**********************************

As promised….   Turtle Cake

Ingredients

1 German Chocolate Cake Mix (18.5 oz) (+ ingredients for cake, required on the box)
1 14 oz package of caramels
1/2 cup evaporated milk
6 tbsp butter
1 c chopped pecans
1 c chocolate chips

Instructions

Preheat oven to 350.  Mix cake by box directions.  pour 1/2 of the batter into a greased and floured 9×13 pan.  set aside the remaining batter.  Bake first half of batter for 18 minutes. Meanwhile, in a sauce pan,melt caramels, milk and butter – and stir in the nuts.  pour over the baked cake and sprinkle with chocolate chips.  Pour the reserved batter over the top and bake for another 20 minutes until done.

ENJOY!  It is a delightful, decadent dessert!  YUM!

a bit of history · in my kitchen

raisin pie

melodyannday3 Comments

Pie is all the rage.   I didn’t know it until my sister told me.  Apparently Martha Stewart has declared it’s so.   It’s taking the place of cupcakes.  Wow.  I really didn’t see that one coming.  I’ve been thinking about learning to make a killer pie crust anyway. So, it is now at the top of my baking “bucket list” – that’s my list of the things I haven’t yet tried to bake, but must try soon.

One thing is definite.  I will not, I repeat NOT be making a raisin pie.  You will not find a recipe for raisin pie on this blog and I’ll tell you why.  I don’t like raisins in baked goods.   They turn out to be partially rehydrated grapes when they’ve been baked in something and so really it is like eating a wilted grape.  At any rate, there is another reason…

A long time ago I almost tried a piece of raisin pie.

There is no way I can explain this without some background.  My dad was a traveling representative for a Bible College in Ontario, Canada.  Many Sundays our family visited churches where we knew no one.  My dad would preach and tell about the school, and after Sunday services, we regularly found ourselves eating lunch in the homes of complete strangers…

One such Sunday afternoon we found ourselves, my mom, dad, sister and I, in the very situation I’ve described.   We had been prepared a lovely lunch – and it was getting close to my favorite part of the meal.  Dessert.   And believe me, I wasn’t born yesterday.  I had saved room.

We had experienced quite a lot of incredible meals topped off with delectable treats of all kinds.  cookies.  cakes.  brownies and bars.  I know for sure of a turtle cake that was a huge hit with my family, made by one Pastor Twinem’s wife in Courtland, Ontario.  I remember tasting that cake like it was just this afternoon.  But, I digress.

There we sat, the dishes cleared and the gracious hostess brought the dessert and placed in the center of the table.  “Raisin Pie!” she said cheerfully.  and I’m sure I did not conceal my *sigh* well enough.  I know I tasted a teeny -tiny morsel, while trying to avoid a raisin- which is complicated when you’re eating a bite of raisin pie.

Over the past couple of weeks I’ve felt like I’m sitting around that table again.  looking at raisin pie.  wishing it was turtle cake.

All too often I find myself staring disappointment in the face, not knowing what in the world to do.  It might be something small, it might be completely life-altering – but there it is.  My head aches with the confusion, my heart pounds a little harder from the frustration; I can’t figure out which direction to go because everything is spinning out of my control.

I found myself telling the Heavenly Father, “But I don’t want this ‘raisin pie‘! ”  I could have sworn You promised me ‘turtle cake’!”  And I’ve had to search Scripture to find a way to understand better.   Do you know what I found?  I didn’t find a promise for what I want – I found a promise of His goodness.  Those two things aren’t always one in the same.

I’ve been holding tightly to these verses this week – in the middle of some turmoil – when things weren’t going quite the way I thought they should:

13 I would have lost heart, unless I had believed
That I would see the goodness of the LORD
In the land of the living.

14 Wait on the LORD;
Be of good courage,
And He shall strengthen your heart;
Wait, I say, on the LORD!

He promises that in time, if I wait – I will see His goodness.  It may be what I’ve been hoping for.  It may be better or different. But certainly it will be His best for me.

************************************

PS:  I’ll see if I can’t find that recipe for Turtle Cake and post it…. or maybe the pie I try to make… or maybe I’ll post both recipes…

(originally written August 15, 2011)

friends and loved ones

She said my house looks nice…

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She followed me up the steps of my home, into the living room.  Running late, after a succession of errands, my friend had beaten me home- she was going to help keep my children while I ran down the street to vote.   My kids had scrambled up the driveway ahead of us, and I came along behind with all of our various and sundry items from the afternoon.

I cringed as she entered the space.  Hadn’t we picked up before we left?  I thought sure we had, but it didn’t appear that way now.  She settled on the couch, and I, in my normal form, began tidying while we chatted…  gathering this and that, putting things where they belong, trying to make things a bit more presentable, as most moms are known to do.  I was thinking to myself, “Why didn’t I do those dishes in the sink, and wipe up the bathroom, and vacuum the living room rug, and, and, and…”  When she said,

“Oh Melody, your home always looks so nice.”

and she meant it.

I stopped in my tracks. “Thank you,” I said, feeling doubtful.  We spent a few minutes catching up and then I dashed out the door to a local church to do my civic duty.

My friend, she’s a wife and mother of three grown boys – a grandmother now – and she knows.  She knows what it is like to raise three kids in what seems like a small space, or what its like to end the day wondering where the hours went.   And she’s been good to remember those days gone by.  Do you know how I know she remembers?  My friend is an encourager.  I believe her experiences brought her to this place in my life, where she offers well spent words of sympathy, a listening ear when I’m in the middle of a struggle, and a heart that points mine to Jesus.

As I stood in line, out in the chilly evening air, I was warmed by her kind words.  Words that I’m not sure I deserved, but my heart was revived just the same by her kindness.    Isn’t this how I am supposed to treat others?  With grace and love, offering life, choosing the sweetest words when dealing with those around me.  Oh yes.   That is how I should be.    My friend  was such a good example to me today of these verses from 1 Peter 3: 8-9:

 8Finally, all of you be of one mind, having compassion for one another; love as brothers, be tenderhearted, be courteous; 9 not returning evil for evil or reviling for reviling, but on the contrary blessing, knowing that you were called to this, that you may inherit a blessing.

Heavenly Father, I am so thankful today, for this friend you have placed in my life as an example and mentor – and for the compassion and kindness she has shown to me.  Help me to treat others who You place in my life with this same affection. amen.

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on time God

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(My sweet and spunky baby, almost big girl, Mackenzie…)

It occurs to me, briefly, while sitting on the floor of the bathroom, that I don’t have time for this.  Seriously. Yesterday was the day, and who am I to question?

Monday morning, when the mandate became clear, I began a new and yet familiar adventure.  It was time to set out and take the first steps.  Mackenzie was ready.  She told me so.  She wanted to wear her my little pony underpants and use the potty.

Really?  Now?

Something I’ve been waiting for, for so long, and praying for, is finally upon us.  And Yes, I’ve been praying for her to want to go potty on her little Cinderella potty chair.   I began to pray in earnest last week after a particular conversation with my sweet girl where (after asking if she’d like to go potty) she told me on no uncertain terms, “I will blow my nose, and I will make a wish, but I will NOT use the potty. ”  and just for special effect she yelled, “NEVAH!” and ran away.

And I was left sitting in the middle of dashed hopes and dreams.  Dreams of no more weekly pullups or wipes to purchase.  hopes of no more over-washed and dried out hands, no more diaper genie…  the list goes on…

So, why now?  In the middle of a busy, no crazy, week when I am spread just a bit too thin- I get to start potty training.  Let’s just move this week right into the “insanity” column.

And, that’s what I asked Him last night while laying in bed.  When my mind wouldn’t slow enough to go to sleep, I decided to give him the “what for….”

“Why?  Why would you give me what I’ve been praying for, at such a terrible time?  It’s the wrong time, you know.  Its all wrong.”  (I figured, I’d just get it all out there in the open.)

and He said,

“I’m always on time.  This is exactly the right time.  This is a gift I’m giving you – and it is at just the best moment.”   He wasn’t going to hold back either.  “Don’t you know that I love you?  I want you to do this potty-training thing in my strength. – If it was a breeze, at the best time in your limited, human opinion, wouldn’t you be doing it on your own?  without me?  You may not know it, but you NEED me to do this.  This is the perfect time.”

Well.  I had nothing left to say.

So often, I expect that His gifts (and their timing), are going to be  exactly what I want, and when I want them.   But that’s not what He promises.  He promises his best, in spite of our earthly and finite requests.

And I’m reminded of His words in James 1, you know the part where He talks about trials and gifts…

16Do not be deceived, my beloved brethren. 17 Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. 18 Of His own will He brought us forth by the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of His creatures.

All of it is from His hand, for my good, at the best time, preparing me to be one of His “first fruits.”  I suppose that means being tested, even with potty training, to learn to do every thing in His strength.    This time I’m learning that He is an On-time God.  And that, through this short trial, is a beautiful gift.

friends and loved ones · in my kitchen

the conspiracy…

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(I wrote this quite a long time ago, but its been on my mind as the holidays are approaching…)

Today I am sitting looking at our Christmas tree. It is up and the little white lights are sparkling. Other than that it’s naked. It’s complicated decorating for Christmas with a potty training preschooler and a fussy infant, even if there are two adults in on the effort.

But I’m enjoying it for a moment – thinking about our holidays, the memories. Nostalgia is always a part of Christmas. I think of my loved ones – especially my grandparents who are in heaven now. But today, I have someone else on my mind.

It’s Michael’s granddaddy, John B Day the second. Truly, I did not know him well. He was advancing in age when I came on the scene. He was a widower and kept busy with gardening among other things. He was up early in the morning and to bed early as well. He loved God, he served his country and he provided for his family.

To claim I know a lot of first hand information about him would be illegitimate. But there is one thing I have heard about him. He was a generous man. I have heard so many stories of his giving. He would grow produce in his gardens all around the town of Signal Mountain and give them to anyone who needed them. He seemed to be the type of man who would give you the shirt from his back.

Let me tell you something I did experience first hand. It was his honey. My husband’s grandfather had beehives from the time Michael was little. I can tell you personally that the honey he harvested from those hives was magnificent. One of the first meals I had at the Day house included fresh, hot biscuits. Michael’s dad, John the third, held up this jar, almost ceremoniously and said that this was honey from one of his dad’s hives – would I like to try some? Of course I did, who can turn down fresh biscuits and honey? My taste buds have never been the same. The honey was exquisite – full of very distinct flavors from the flower gardens that bloomed all around the beehives and Mr. Day’s home. I would never be able to eat normal honey again.

Michael and I have been wanting our family to be a part of something bigger this Christmas. We want to give our family purpose and meaning – and also find a way to give Jesus a gift at his birthday. Some have labeled it “The Advent Conspiracy” in an attempt to put a title on this concept: we all need to turn away from the materialism of the season and move toward those in need. We embrace the concept but have not been sure how to put it into action.

A few months ago my husband received a Samaritan’s purse catalogue. There in the middle pages was a picture with beehives. You can give a certain amount and a beehive will be purchased and given to a family who needs an income. The hope is that they will be able to harvest and sell the honey and then be able to provide needs for their own family.

Here was a way for us to continue in the spirit of John Day’s life, giving to someone in need. A beehive. And it dawns on me. Michael’s granddaddy, in his consistent generosity was apart of the Advent Conspiracy all along – before it was ever labeled such.

Christ said in a parable in Matthew 25, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

By giving, to those in need, we are truly able to give just a small gift to our heavenly Father who gave His son for us.

Mr. Day passed away in 2007, so my children and I won’t have opportunities to get to know him better. But maybe at the great marriage supper someday we’ll all sit down together. We’ll tell him how his life inspired us to give to those who were in need. And maybe, just maybe we’ll share a hot biscuit and fresh honey while we chat. Could there be anything more heavenly?

md

(written on November 30, 2009)