Perspective

I couldn’t let September pass without an entry…so better late than never.

My word for today is “Perspective.”

There is a wisdom that comes with age and the passage of time.  I wish that I could give that away to my younger friends.  I cannot.  Each of us must learn certain things on our own.

I have often lamented with friends who are my age that I wish I could go back and redo certain periods of my life, knowing what I know now.   What would it be like to live through my 20’s and onward feeling pretty and intelligent and confident?  I can’t imagine.  Surely I wouldn’t make some of the same mistakes.  Surely not.  But somehow, there would be other mistakes, then.  Maybe mistakes of pride?  Realizing my inadequacy brings me to my knees…I am reminded daily of my need for God and that is a good thing.

Do I trust You, Lord, that You redeem all things?  Yes.  So…my journey has not been wasted.  Nothing is wasted with God.  

Just the phrase “do I trust you, Lord?” takes me back to the 1980’s and one of my favorite artists from that era…Twila Paris.  Here is a medley from You Tube that doesn’t sound quite as dated as the original track from her album.  She has one of the purest voices. 

Of all that I have learned over the years, nothing has impacted my life greater than a deeper understanding of Grace.  I still have so much to learn…but I am a lot further along the road than I once was.  Grace means that I am free to run home when I fall down.  Grace means my Daddy-God’s (Abba-Father’s) arms are always open for me.

 I can receive Grace from God…receive far beyond what I deserve.  That’s what Grace is.  I have heard that Mercy is not getting what I deserve and Grace is getting so much more that I deserve.  I am living a Grace-filled life.  More than I deserve because of who God is.  It’s not all up to me.  What a lovely, freeing and beautiful thought.  Today, I have the Perspective of seeing God’s overarching Grace on my life from the beginning to where I stand today.  And that same Grace will lead me home.

My Perspective has been refined by Grace.  As I have believed more deeply, I have received more freely.   I can look back on the years and see God’s hand.  As I have learned to receive Grace, I have learned to give it.  And I have learned to look back over the years and extend it to myself…extend it to the girl I once was as well as to who I am today.  This, to me, is the secret to happiness and contentment.  

Romans 8:28 

²⁸ And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who^[a] have been called according to his purpose.

 

Joel 2:25

²⁵ “I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten—
    the great locust and the young locust,
    the other locusts and the locust swarm^[a]—
my great army that I sent among you.  New International Version (NIV)

 

 

Who Do You Want To Be?

Last week in my Sunday School class, we were discussing how amazing it is that we often don’t know what God has waiting for us when we choose to obey Him.  It is usually far more than we would have asked for, but often very different from what we expect.

No Eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him.  I Cor 2:9

Often times, we think only of the pain or discomfort of sacrifice to our ego or our desire to please self.  We have no idea how good we will feel when we yield and obey.

A man in our class gave a beautifully simple and profound example of this in his life.  He announced that he will be receiving his 25-year sober chip from AA this week.  He said that when he first went to AA, he was in the habit of stealing.  He had no guilt or remorse about it.  His friends had talked to him about it, but he didn’t really want to change.  When he went to a convenience store, he would pay for one thing and steal another, i.e., pay for a soda and steal a candy bar.  He rationalized that the store was basically breaking even by his visit.  He was also in the habit of stealing all of his clothing.  He would go into a dressing room and put his clothes on over the clothes that he was stealing.

While going through the steps in AA, he decided to actually pay for his clothes for a change.  He said that when he went to pay at the register, he was able to look the clerk in the eye for the first time.  He received a receipt and a bag.  It felt good walking out of the store with the bag and the receipt!  He walked past a police officer and was able to relax and hold his head up.  He had no idea how good that would feel.

His sponsor asked him to make a list of all of the things he had stolen.  He made a very long list and felt that he was able to remember everything.  When he handed the list to his sponsor, he began to cry.  He said to his sponsor, “I don’t even know why I am crying.”  His sponsor replied, “You are crying because this isn’t Who You Want To Be.”

He didn’t steal after that.  He said he had no idea what he was missing by not doing the right thing. 

How many of us can identify with that?  What habits do we have that we want to change?  What behaviors do we exhibit that reflect a person who isn’t Who We Want To Be?  Maybe, just maybe, we have underestimated the rewards of self-denial.  Maybe we have yet to experience the benefits of change.

I have never regretted yielding any area of my life to God.  He always surprises me with more that I expect or deserve.  Sometimes when I ask for things, He says “No” or “Wait.”  Waiting is hard.  But taking matters in to my own hands in areas where He has said “wait” results in settling for less than He would have chosen for me.  He gives me a choice.  I am thankful for that, but I should know by now that His ways are better.  I do struggle, daily, with choices that are less than best for me in some areas of my life.  If  I didn’t, I guess I wouldn’t be so aware of my need for Him. 

Choosing God’s way…waiting when He says “wait” can be painful.  It tests my faith.  But you know else it does?  It smooths out the rough edges in my life.  It builds maturity.  It strengthens my resolve. 

Do people on their deathbeds ever wish they had given God less?  I doubt it.  Not if they are of sound mind.  What kind of legacy do I want to leave?

I am getting the same messages lately from different sources.  Have you ever noticed that happening?  I know that when that happens, God is trying to tell me something.  It is in my best interest to listen-up. 

My niece, Erin, babysits my dear friend Cheryl’s young daughter, Claire.  Last week, Claire asked Erin why she didn’t have a boyfriend.  Erin told her that she is waiting for God to bring her a boyfriend.  Claire didn’t seem satisfied with that answer.  Erin then asked her, “Have you ever asked for something and not gotten it?”  Claire perked up and said yes!  She wanted a motorized scooter badly but she got a bike instead.  However, she loves the bike even better that she'd have liked the scooter.  Erin took advantage of this teachable moment to explain that she is waiting for God to give her a “bicycle.”

Me, as well.  I’ve been waiting for a wonderful “bicycle” for a long time.  In fact, I have done everything I can think of in my power to get it but nothing has proved fruitful for me.  I have speed-dated, spent years in Christian singles groups, years in Match.com and also joined Eharmony.  I don’t regret those choices.  I gave it the old college try, so to speak, but I keep coming back to what I believe to be true, “ I have asked God for His best for me, and His best for me is to remain single or wait.” 

Once, when I was meeting a match.com date for lunch, I was going through chemo for ovarian cancer.  As such, I had donned a wig, drawn on my eyebrows, and glued on false eyelashes.  It sounds awful, but I was feeling sassy in my wig and I looked kinda cute, if I do say so myself.  When I went to shake my date’s hand at the table, I felt something tickling my cheek.  I excused myself and went into the ladies room.  When I looked in the mirror, I saw one set of false eyelashes dangling down onto my cheekbone.  I had to rip the other set off as I did not have glue with me and I returned to the table eyelashless. 

With my Sassy Wig but no Eyelashes...

Claire must have heard me tell this story.  She told Erin, "Aunt Janice almost had a boyfriend once, but her eyelashes fell off."

I love that!  I will have to talk with Claire one day and explain that my eyelashes have little to do with why I do not have a boyfriend.  It does make for a good story, though, doesn't it?

During this process of waiting, I have also become more aware that there is no perfect “bicycle.”  Nor do I have perfection to offer.  My responsibility is to continue to grow in spiritual and emotional health, first to honor God and second to honor myself and others.  In doing so, I am more ready to receive whatever God has for me, even if that is remaining single.  It's not the fate-worse-than-death that I once thought it to be.  I love my life and it is good. 

Last Sunday was my final forty-something birthday.  I am frankly shocked to find myself facing 50.  Where did the time go?  All those things I heard from elders all my life are coming true…you truly wake up one day and time is rushing by.  Or it seems that way.

I take comfort in trusting God and I take comfort in the fact that I am still changing.  A couple of things happened over the weekend which were out of my control and not what I would have chosen.  Not big things, but things that I might have counted big at one time in my life.  I rolled with it all and enjoyed my birthday thoroughly.  Afterwards, I reflected and realized how much I have changed.  I am thankful that I do have choices in my life.  I am not a victim of circumstance.  I have choices over some circumstances and over some I do not, but I can always choose thankfulness and peace.  I can choose to enjoy my life.

I have thought about the story the man shared in Sunday School several times this week.  I have asked myself the question, “Is This Who I Want to Be?”  It has helped me to make some good decisions.  It has helped me to be aware that I am making decisions whether I realize it or not.  Some decisions are by default, and those are often not the best.  I'd like to be more intentional.

I want to be who God created me to be.  I am still figuring that out.  But I am getting closer. 

No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful.  Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.  Hebrews 12:11

Now unto Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is work within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever!  Amen.  Ephesians 3:20-21

In the Eye of the Beholder

I have some dear younger friends who are still in their teens.  They have captured my heart with their love for God.  I want to encourage them to celebrate life and the uniqueness of who they are.  I don’t want them to waste time wishing they were someone else.  I want them to enjoy who they are and who they are becoming.  They are each beautiful and each different. 

When I search for words to encourage them, I think back on my own life.  What did I need?  What do I wish I had known when I was their ages?  So many things! 

I started out a natural blonde...no complaints here...2 years old

I wasted so much time in my early years lamenting my perceived lack of physical beauty…wishing my eyes were larger and more defined, my eyelashes longer, my body lighter, my hair thicker and blonder, my legs thinner, my feet more narrow, my breasts perkier…and the list goes on…

There were days I cried out to God and said, “Why did you make me ugly?!?,” and, “Please, God, make me pretty!”  I thought that no one would ever love me because I wasn’t pretty enough. 

7th grade...asked for the Dorothy Hamill cut and here's what I got...

As an adult, I look around at married couples and I see that they come in all shapes and sizes and various levels of “perceived” beauty…and whose perception are we talking about, anyway?  Clearly beauty is in the eye of the beholder and beauty is more than skin deep.

Have you ever met someone whom you thought to be quite ordinary-looking and as you grow to know their heart and mind they transform into a person who is quite attractive?  It happens often.  We can be shallow and short-sighted when it comes to beauty.

The Beginning of the Awkward Years...

Will it never end?!?

When I was in High School, I was most depressed about it all.  I tried hard to look like other popular girls who had the beauty stamp of approval.  My class pictures were always a disappointment to me.  Too much make-up and too much trying to look like someone else.  I was cursed (so I thought) with impossibly fine hair.  This was a fate worse than death in the “Big Hair” 1980’s.  In an effort to make my hair look thicker, I did the curling iron roll around my face and sprayed it.  From the side, I looked like I was wearing a sausage.  What was I thinking?

Oh Yeah...looking cool with the brown boots and gray suit...

 

My early attempts at "Big Hair"

In college, I hot-rolled first thing in the morning and I went back to my room before lunch everyday and hot-rolled again.  (I am talking curlers for those of you who don’t remember).  Then I would tease and spray and try hard to get the biggest hair I could.

Sadly, my insecurities were only reinforced by the men I chose to date in those early decades of my life.  After I had been in therapy for a few years and was feeling somewhat more confident, I dated a man who challenged all that confidence.  (Isn’t that how the enemy works in our lives?)  After an argument in the car on the way to visit his parents for the weekend where he criticized my choice of clothing (“You know that sweatpants aren’t flattering on you”), and the gift I had lovingly made for his mother (“I’m just not sure that she will like it but she will feel obligated to display it”), he said to me, “I grew up looking at pornography and I’d always imagined that I would eventually end up with a Playboy centerfold or a Miss America…I am just having a hard time dealing with reality.” Ouch!

25-ish

Yes, that really happened.  And yes, that set me back a little, although I knew that it was utterly ridiculous to buy into those words which were lies on so many levels…there it was, another message that I was somehow “not enough.”  For the record, we eventually broke-up.  That was a toxic relationship for both of us, although I believe he has grown and changed (as I have) and turned out to be a great husband for someone else.  Timing is everything, and the timing was not right for us.  No woman should have to combat those lies from a man.  We hear these kinds of lies in our heads without the help of a partner egging us on.  If you are hearing words like that from a significant other and you are not married yet, run away as fast as you can!  If you are married, seek counseling!  Find ways to build yourself up and be encouraged if you can’t get it from your partner. 

Now, as I look at pictures of myself in my 20’s, I think, “She is beautiful!”  Whatever was I thinking?!? 

What was I complaining about?

But who are you, O man, to talk back to God?  Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, Why did you make me like this?  Romans 9:20

What I didn’t know back in the day is that all women have this inner doubt…this wondering of “am I pretty enough?” at least sometime in their lives if not all through it.  Even the so-called beautiful people have self-doubt.  It’s part of the curse of humanity; part of the lies that Eve embraced from the devil himself.

I wish I had not wasted so much time fretting over the way that I looked.  I was beautiful…how sad that I did not enjoy it!  And yes, there is more to beauty than outward appearance.  I hope (and believe) that I am growing in beauty.  Although physical beauty can fade in degrees throughout life, inner beauty can increase exponentially.  There is no limit on how beautiful our hearts and spirits can become as we grow in the grace and knowledge of God.  Yay!

As I glanced in the mirror this week at work, I saw some lines in my face that I didn’t like.  I saw some signs of aging.  I am 48 years-young after all.  That voice in my head said, “It’s all downhill from here, Janice.  You are in the years of fading beauty.”  I will choose to yell out loud, “Get behind me Satan!” (after I get home from work…not sure what the co-workers would think of this.) :)

Okay, so it is what it is.  Some aspects of physical beauty do fade.  But I want to learn from my past mistakes…this, after all, is a way of redeeming them.   I look back 20 years ago and I see a lovely young woman who was quite pretty who thought she was ugly.  I don’t want to be a 70-year old woman looking back at a 48-year old woman who, though her beauty had begun to fade was still attractive and didn’t appreciate it.  It’s all relative, isn’t it?  It’s ridiculous to harbor negative thoughts!  Stop the insanity!

The Bible says in Psalm 139:

For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb.  I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful.  I know that full well.  My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.  When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, Your eyes saw my unformed body.  All the days ordained for me where written in your book before one of them came to be.

When Jesus was tempted in the wilderness with lies from Satan, he quoted scripture to combat the lies.  He gave us a great example to follow.  He created me in my mother’s womb.  There are some characteristics of me that were meant to be.  My height, my eyes, my hair, my basic shape…these were created by God.  I can choose to thank Him and celebrate my uniqueness.  I’m done lamenting.  I am choosing thankfulness.

My new motto is “to play the hand I’m dealt.”  Make the best I can today of what I have been given and then move on…focus on growing in other ways.  I told my young friends about the serenity prayer.  I think it’s a good one when it comes to this topic…

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.  Reinhold Niebuhr

I mentioned earlier that I hated my school pictures all through Jr.High and High School.  Picture day was so stressful for me…I would try hard to look good and I was always disappointed when pictures came back.  In the non-digital era, you didn’t know what you would face several weeks after picture-day when the teacher handed you your picture packet.  There would be your fate for the yearbook and for all to see.  Of course I prayed about it every year, as I prayed about everything in my life. 

Most Recently...July 2013

It was several years later, when people began to comment to me about how photogenic I was.  I didn’t believe them at first.  Even today, at 48, people continue to tell me I am photogenic.  It makes me laugh every time, because I know it is a little joke between me and God.  He has graciously chosen to humor me in this simple request.  I do believe He has a great sense of humor.  After all, He created humor.  He must be pretty funny…

Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.  Proverbs 31:30

Happy Father's Day

Paul Lawrence Senior Picture

Dear Daddy,

I love that your favorite color was brown.  It’s because you were always a farmer in your heart…brown is the color of the earth.  Brown is the color of dirt, foundation, sun-drenched skin, worms, tree bark, mountains…it is simple and rich at the same time.  Like you.

You and I were so different in many ways.  As I grow older, I see that there are ways that I am more like you than I understood when you were here.  There are so many questions that I would like to ask you.  When I was mature enough to truly want to know you, you were already fading away.  You stopped knowing my name about 6 years before you left us.  It was too late to get my questions answered.

Maybe when we meet in Heaven, we will talk.  Maybe my questions won’t seem so important then.  Maybe then we will just enjoy each other.  That is okay, too.

Daddy and me, 1964

I didn’t find out until after your funeral that you were a football star at the same High School that I attended!  I would have loved to ask you about that.  When we cleaned out the house to sell, I found the clippings, which I still have to this day.  What other secrets did I not know?

When I asked you what attracted you to Mom when you first met her at that dance pavilion, you smiled and said you liked her tight sweater.  I laughed at your honesty.  But I know that there was more to the story.  A marriage of over 50 years is built on more than sweater size. 

Wedding Day November 29, 1952

I know that you loved her like no other and you trusted her completely.  You gave her your paycheck on Wednesday nights and you never thought about money afterwards…you never even wrote a check.  She was your finance manager and your household manager and you did not question her decisions.  She gave you an allowance for gas money and that was it.  That was all you needed.  Fortunately, for all of us, she was skilled at stretching a dollar and saving.  The house was paid off when I was 11.  We were never in debt.  You were a great team.

Paul, 14...Diane, 12...David, 10...Janice, 3

You weren’t a guy who wanted toys.  You didn’t care about the finer things in life.  You got socks and underwear for your birthday and Fathers’ day…sometimes a new tie for church.  (Okay, so on this point we are different!) 

I remember the only time I saw you spit-out food was when you first tried caviar on your 25^Th anniversary.  No, you were a sardine kind-of-guy.  (This drove my cat, Alexander, crazy.  Even though he was an outside cat, in the middle of winter he could smell the sardines when you would pop open the tin in the kitchen.)

You were tired when you came home from work.  When you were on the daytime shift, you would eat dinner and then soon fall asleep on the living room floor after the evening news.  In this, we are alike (except for the living room floor part).  When you were on the evening shift, you would be putting on your work boots on the front steps when I was coming home from school.  It was hello and goodbye.  You would have your brown bag “lunch” beside you on the step, probably a bologna sandwich and an apple packed lovingly by Mom.  Usually a couple of homemade cookies were in there, too.  Your favorites were molasses cookies.  Or if us kids had eaten all the homemade cookies, there would be Fig Newtons.

Old habits die hard...with granddaughter Stephanie

Our newspaper didn’t come until after you left for work.  It’s funny to think about now, but our town had an evening paper instead of a morning paper.  Mom would write notes to you on the top of the newspaper about anything that had happened after you left for work.  You would read her notes and the newspaper when you got home (long after we were all asleep) and then you would go to bed.  It was a regular thing…newspaper with mom’s notes to you at the top.  I wish today that I had kept one of them.  (Yes, I do have hoarder tendencies...I attach emotion to things that stir my heart.)

You were tired on “working” days.  On weekends, you spent as much time as you could outdoors.  You picked up sticks in the yard regularly.  You mowed and weeded and maintained two beautiful gardens.  We had fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, cabbage, onions, peppers, potatoes, carrots, beans, strawberries, grapes, rhubarb, and raspberries!  We also had two apple trees.  This was normal for me then…I thought everyone lived like this.  I thought nothing of it.  Today, I am in awe of the bounty of your work and your farmers-thumb.  Mom canned and we ate from your gardens all year long. 

Stephanie and AJ and Grandpa's Garden

Watering the crops with Steph and Joey

Flowers were always planted around the house

Our time together was outside.  I would walk with you down the long dirt road to our neighbor, Clarence’s farmhouse.  Clarence lived there with his Aunt Minnie.  How I wish I had a picture of the two of them.  Minnie had arthritis bad and she wore housecoats with her rings pinned to them.  One day I complimented one of her rings and she took it off and put it on my finger.  It was a perfect fit, and it was my birthstone, a Ruby in a 10K gold antique setting.  I still have it to this day.  Minnie and I would sit on the old porch swing together and talk.  I was just a little girl but I sensed that Minnie liked my visits and I liked Minnie.  Give this girl jewelry and you have a friend for life!

Clarence and Minnie's before it was torn down

 

Clarence, your best friend (other than Mom), was quite a character with his farm clothes and suspenders, his round wire rim glasses (before they were popular) and his pipe extended from his mouth like a permanent fixture.  He had a huge old farm tractor with a mowing attachment which he used to trim the brush between our dirt road and his.  He had pigs and chickens.  I loved throwing apples that had fallen on the ground from his apple orchards into the pig sty and see them run (run as much as pigs can do) and squeal and grunt and swallow them whole.  I remember you taking me to the barn after piglets were born and you helped me up to see over the fence.  The huge mama pig was lying on her side with ten or so tiny piglets sucking their breakfast.  You were in awe of nature and you loved sharing it with me.  Just like when you trimmed our pine trees into gumdrop shapes and you would find a bird’s nest…you would wave me over quietly to show me the babies with their necks outstretched and their mouths opened wide, waiting for worms to be deposited.

Overgrown and abandoned

The very last time we saw Clarence's farm...

Where the pigs once lived...

I loved Clarence and Minnie’s ancient house with the antique stuffed velvet living room furniture covered in sheets and the main room’s stacks and stacks of National Geographic’s.  I don’t think Clarence ever threw one away.  I bet he shared them with you, Dad, because the one time my college friend and I played trivial pursuit with you, you knew the names of obscure rivers in Africa!  You whooped us good.  And you never went to college.  Why did I not realize before that you were an intelligent man?  You were so quiet and unpretentious.

I loved drinking the crisp, fresh water out of Clarence’s well with you in that old tin cup that he kept in the well house.  It was ice cold and the best water I have ever tasted to this day.   I loved walking through his orchards and hearing you tell me the names of the trees and leaves.  (We did this one time for my school project.)  I loved walking through the plowed cornfields and searching for arrowheads with you.  I didn’t make time for it very often, but if I wanted to be with you, that is where you would be.

I remember the day Clarence died.  He had been in the hospital for quite some time and we had visited him there.  I thought it so strange to see him in pajamas and without his hat and pipe.  Was it really him?  Days later, you were on the floor in the living room reading the paper and Mom came in the room to tell you that Clarence had died.  You stared at the ground and you were silent.  I wish now that you could have cried.  I knew that you were so sad.  You were taught not to show emotion and you were good at it back then.

Gum Drop Trees where many-a-bird was born

Winter Memories

I was happy for you when you retired from your job as a machinist.  You came full circle.  You were free to be outside as much as you wished and you chose to spend time helping your son, Paul, on his farm.  He had the life you might have chosen for yourself if things had worked out differently.  You never spoke words of regret.  You never complained.  I wish I had asked you about that, too. 

All 11 Grandchildren together...

  

You were always a good dancer, but you danced more after you retired.  You were more playful after you retired.  And as you got older, you had more of a sparkle in your eyes.  (Maybe it was always there, but I started really noticing it at that time.)  You were a fun grandpa for your grandchildren.  We all enjoyed your presence.  Do you remember that day when your grandkids were playing outside and and they wrote out in giant chalk letters on the cement, "the nicest man lives here!"? I remember.

Erin and Andy pretending Grandpa is a horse...

As your mind began fading, your playfulness increased.  Sometimes you would spontaneously begin dancing a jig.  One day, when asked why you were dancing, you replied, “I have grasshoppers in my pants!”

He was saying something funny...

My favorite memories of you were Sunday mornings in our Baptist church.  After I moved away and came home to visit, the times became fewer and more precious.  I loved hearing you sing.  You had amazing rhythm and timing as a dancer but you could not carry a tune for the life of you.  I loved hearing you sing because I believe that you meant what you were singing.  You were worshipping.  A lot of men who can’t sing simply don’t sing.  They stand in church and move their mouths as if they were singing, but they never sing.  You sang with your heart.  It was beautiful to me.  I think it must have been beautiful to God, too.  I remember one of the last times I heard you and Mom singing and I knew that time was rushing by and that soon there would be no more Sunday mornings in church with you and Mom.  I am grateful that I understood that and I cherished the moment.   I heard you singing one of my favorite contemporary worship songs, “...This is my daily bread…” I took a snapshot with my heart.  When I close my eyes, I can hear you. 

I love you, Daddy.  I love you even more now than I was able to back then.  I appreciate you more now.  I didn’t think I wanted an “ordinary” life like yours.  I thought there was something more glamorous out here for me.  I didn’t see that your “ordinary” life was quite extraordinary.  You were like your favorite color brown…simple and rich.  I didn’t know that the two went together.  But you did.  You lived it. 

One of the last Father's Days we shared

Breathe

Written By Marie Barnett (sung by Michael W. Smith and many others, including Dad and Mom and me)  

This is the air I breathe
This is the air I breathe
Your Holy presence living in me

This is my daily bread
This is my daily bread
Your very word spoken to me

And I, I'm desperate for you
And I, I'm lost without you

Happy Mother's Day

I looked at the calendar, Momma, and I counted the years...10 whole years since you left us.  It doesn't seem that long ago.  Time is moving faster and faster.  I heard someone say once that time moves faster as you get older because of perspective...when you are 10, 1 year is 10% of your whole life, so it can seem like time passes slowly, especially waiting for Christmas or a birthday.  One year is a much smaller percentage of life for me.  But, oh, I don't want to forget that the years are precious.  The years are a gift from God.  Sometimes I will them away with my impatience and longing for I-don't-exactly-know-what.  Life is happening now; today.  I want to learn to live more fully in the moment.

She was beautiful and young once, my Mom...

She had dreams...dreams of having a husband and a family.  She told me once that a husband and a family is all she ever really wanted, all that she prayed for.  She made a mistake when she was young and longing to be loved.  She eloped with a man against her mother's wishes.  He was not a safe person.  He abused her verbally and physically and in less than 2 years she escaped back to her mother. That must have been hard for her, to have a made a mistake that she feared was so great that she would never have the family of her dreams.  She had a hard time forgiving herself.  I know, because she only mentioned this once to me, and I was never to discuss it again.  How much shame she felt in her mistake. Secrets like this take on a power of their own. There is ample grace in God's arms for mistakes. He knows full well that we will make them. He provided a Saviour for us because of it. Yet some of us (me included) have a hard time receiving grace and a hard time giving it to ourselves.

Oh, she loved God and she believed Him for her salvation, but I think she had a hard time forgiving herself.  So she prayed...she prayed and hoped that she would meet a kind man to be her husband and to grow the family of which she dreamed.  In the meanwhile, she got a job a the Bell Telephone Company as a telephone operator. On the weekends, she went dancing at the pavilion at Cascade Park.

And lo and behold, God had a man waiting for her.  A man who loved to dance.  A man who loved the color brown and loved farming the land.  He loved farming more than anything until he met my mom. Then he loved her more.  He loved her enough to get a job in a mill with no windows and no air conditioning.  He loved her enough to buy her a house and to provide for her and their family of 4...to love her over 50 years until the day he breathed his last breath. 

Dolores Jean Patterson and Paul Lawrence

So, Mom told me that all she ever wanted was a husband and children and God had answered her prayers.  She had 4 children all together...and of the 4, I was the last in line.  I was born exactly 11 years after my oldest brother, Paul, 10 years after my sister, Diane, and 7 years after my brother, David.

Janice and Mom

In our Sunday Best

These pictures of me and Mom are probably Sunday mornings.  Every Sunday we attended First Baptist Church.  Mom was fiercely loyal to the Baptist Church...She was a lifelong member.  It was and still is a great place to worship.  I loved my time there, too.  I am grateful for a mom and dad who took me to church where I learned much about Jesus and about the Bible.  Even today, the verses I learned as a child have never left me and have proved a solid foundation for my faith journey.

I always loved her and never could imagine life without her.  When I was a child, I loved to sit on her lap and put my head on her chest while she read a book to me aloud.  I loved feeling her breath on my cheek.  I loved her familiar smell; her softness.  When I grew bigger, we would sit in bed together, side by side, while she read one of her historic novels, I would be reading one of my little golden books.  I would stare at the same page indefinitely until she turned the page of her book.  I must have driven her crazy...I would ask over and over..."Mom, did you turn the page yet?"

I remember her working hard at home.  There was laundry for 6, cleaning, cooking, snapping and canning beans, canning cherries, tomatoes and jam, gardening and school issues with 4 kids.  I remember her singing along to the radio while she ironed clothes.  When I was very young, we had one of those old-time washers with a big wringer and an open tub.  She would have to feed the clothes through the wringer with her hands and a stick.  One time, she got her finger stuck in the wringer...who knew laundry could be dangerous business?

I would be by her side wherever she was...I played in the basement with my dolls while she did the wash. When she watched Let's Make a Deal and had lunch, I would pretend to be a contestant and jump up and down and scream whenever a prize was won.  I was her shadow.

I am sure she missed me some when it was time for school but it was probably nice for her to have a break from me being under her feet.  I remember my very first day of school in first grade.  Our parents were supposed to come at the beginning of the day for registration and to meet our teacher.  She wanted me to have the full experience and to be excited about riding the bus, so she dropped me off at the bus stop and met me at the school.  Looking back now, that makes me smile.  She even thought to ask an older kid on the same bus route to allow me to sit with her on that first day so that I would feel more comfortable.

There weren't many African Americans in my little town.  My mother was concerned about how I would react if there were any in my classroom.  So she prepared me by making me practice smiling and saying hello in case there were any kids who looked different than me.  I can still remember the conversation and her drilling me.

I had a long walk from the bus stop down a gravel road.  It would ice over in the winter.  I remember I would often see my mother's face in the kitchen window, watching for me to come down the lane after school.  One day, the road was so icy that I feared falling.  So I crawled home on my hands and knees (in knee socks, no less!), pushing my lunchbox in front of me and then crawling after it.  I can still see my mother's face in the kitchen window cracking up laughing...she watched me crawl all the way to the front door.

At least twice a year, my mother took me clothes shopping.  Once before school started and once before Easter to get an Easter dress and other spring clothes. These trips were very special to me where I had her undivided attention and had opportunity to get pretty new things.  She took pleasure in buying "nice" clothes from JC Penney.  She believed in the best quality that we could afford.  She took pride in not buying us clothes at discount stores that she said would fall apart.

In addition to her love for reading, I also inherited my mother's budgeting skills (though not so much her frugality, I am afraid).  She never worked outside the home after marrying my father and she was able to manage the household well on his modest income.  Every two weeks was payday and grocery shopping.  In addition to staples, she would usually buy a favorite cereal and a bag of chips, some soda, and maybe a carton of ice cream...but we were admonished not to open the chips and the soda or the ice cream too soon because there would be no more until the next payday.  Usually we didn't eat them the first weekend, we would wait a few days at least.  The anticipation was half of the fun.

She did her budget for the month by hand on a piece of white paper where she drew the lines herself.  I have a copy of the last few.  She kept them in the kitchen drawer.  I remember her sitting at the kitchen table going over the numbers and adding out loud.

I was mean to her sometimes.  I would go back and do it differently if I could.  I had an insatiable appetite for clothes and nice things...things we could not afford.  I gave her a hard time about it.  She gave me everything she could give but I always wanted more.  Sometimes I made her cry over it.  We both cried...me, the spoiled child and her, the mom who just wanted me to be happy.  She sacrificed her own material desires many times for me and our family.  She really did love me, probably more than I will ever understand.

In later years, I took great pleasure in taking her shopping when I would go home to visit.  I loved buying her clothes and attempting to spoil her, although I understand that I could never match all that she had given me.

These are just snippets of memories...there is so much I could say about the uniqueness of her.  She had a wonderful laugh that sounded like hiccups to me.  We had fun times as a family bowling, playing miniature golf, visiting the farm shows in the summer and fall...and always picnics.  Mom's potato salad was the best!  We also had fun playing cards and games and just sitting around the television set together.  Just being together was good.

At the Lawrence County Fair (early 1990's)

As much as I appreciate her love for me, I am perhaps most blessed by how she loved my father.  He had her whole heart.  She loved him purely and completely.  I cannot imagine what life is like for those whose parents don't love each other.  I will always believe that my parents' greatest gift to me was loving each other.  Home was the one place where love and commitment were constants.  It was a comfort to know that they weren't going anywhere.  They were in it for the long haul.  In fact, it is hard to talk about Mom without talking about Dad.  They were inseparable.

My Mom was full of love and devotion.  She laughed a lot, too.  I think they are both laughing in this picture.

So, Momma, you left us 10 years ago.  I knew it was inevitable, but still, the timing surprised me.  It was just 8 months after Dad had passed on.  Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised at all. 

I will always love you, Mom.  I will always thank God for you.  I believe in His providence and in His sovereignty...and I believe He gave us to each other.  He picked you to be my mom and he picked me to be your "surprise" girl.  You are missed today and always.

For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother's womb.

...My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in the secret place.  When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, you eyes saw my unformed body.  All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.  NIV Psalm 139:13, 15 & 16

Timing Is Everything

Yesterday, I was reminded that timing is everything.  For everything there is a season.  God sees it all.  And yes, I do believe that all things work together for good for those who love Him and have been called according to His purpose.  Romans 8:28

I still don’t know why I am where I am for this season but it feels right.  It feels comfortable.  It has been the easiest transition for me people-wise that I can remember.  Truly, there has always been difficulty for me in adjusting to new jobs…learning the lay of the land…political pitfalls and all.  So far, this place feels like low-drama.  No office queens to maneuver…no curmudgeons...just good people.  Thank you, Lord.

As I was talking yesterday with Brian, the man who formerly had my position, I was again reminded that timing is everything.  The Corporate Controller turned in his resignation on November 29^th.  Brian was approached in early December to take the Corporate Controller position, which left the Regional Controller position open at that time.  In early December, I was fully invested in my former job with no thoughts of leaving. 

Over Christmas vacation, as I prayed, I held out my hands, palms up, and told God that I was fully committed to my current job, but that I was willing to let go if it be His will.  I added that He would need to “kick me out of the nest” to make it clear that my time there was done. 

On January 3^rd, my second day back from Christmas vacation, I was “kicked out of the nest.”  Even as I was hearing the words, my heart was comforted by knowing that God was answering my prayers.  He had prepared me and I was ready to go, even though my heart had been fully vested.  I am a loyal person and a creature of habit.  It is sometimes difficult for me to make changes in my life.  

So, meanwhile, nothing had been done at my current job to fill the Regional Controller position.  It was January 20^th when I saw the position posted on Linked In.  I had never applied for a job on Linked In before and I hardly read the job description.  As it was a Sunday, I was probably clicking on anything that said “Controller” in order to fill my weekly quota for unemployment, to be honest.  There were some other things in the works and I was more focused on those jobs and confident that one of them would come through.

I got a call about a week later from the company’s HR contact, and I almost didn’t return the call.  I assumed the job was at the parent company’s location, north of the city, and I didn’t want to drive that far.  I waited a day to call back.  When I did, I discovered that the location was actually 5 miles from my home.

After 2 interview sessions and a personality test, I was offered the Regional Controller position on February 22^nd and I started work on March 4^th.  I had two months of rest, time with friends, and learning to trust God more.  It was time I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Timing is everything.  Thank you, Lord, for your perfect timing.  I will choose to trust You more…

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

    a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,

    a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,
     a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,
     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
     a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,
     a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,
     a time to love and a time to hate,    a time for war and a time for peace.  Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 NIV