My Father’s House

Life has changed since the simple days of my childhood. I’m number seven of ten children born to my parents, Travis and Rachel. I grew up in a four-bedroom house. Needless to say, we shared bedrooms. I didn’t have my own room until I was well into my teens.

I’ve heard that love grows best in small houses and I believe it’s true. There was a lot of love in our little home.

Countless times, Dad grabbed his guitar and started singing silly old songs or tear-jerkers with all of us kids sitting around him as his captive audience. We learned the words to many songs. Most of us were singing harmony at very young ages.

Mom loved to cook, read and crochet. She was a master bedtime story-teller. I learned a few things from her, too.

Somehow, I turned fifty years old earlier this year. It sure did creep up on me. I can hardly believe Dad is now eighty and Mom is seventy-nine. Where has the time gone?

My husband and I moved to Tennessee in 1992 and Dad still hopes I’ll move back home to Missouri. I don’t assume ­-- he brings it up nearly every time I visit.

“So, are you planning on making your home in Tennessee or do you think you might come back to Missouri?”

Now, his memory is pretty bad and it’s difficult to hear him ask me these questions. Partly, because Tennessee has been my home for about twenty-five years. But also, because I wish it was that easy. There are jobs to think of and our children were raised here so this is their home, too.

The last time I visited he said, “You know we’ll do whatever we have to do to help you get back home. We always have a place for you. Whatever it takes, we’ll help you get home.” Then, right before I left, he reminded me again, “Don’t forget what I said.”

I held back tears as I sat in my car ready to leave my parent’s home. Dad stood in the garage waving goodbye as he’d done a hundred times before and I could barely handle it. 

How do I get back to my childhood and sit around singing songs in the living room again as he plays the guitar?

His generous words offering a place for me at home reminded me of our heavenly Father and the place He has prepared for His children. A place where we never have to say goodbye and there won’t be tears of sorrow but only tears of joy. I’m so thankful that when this life is over, we will truly be home.

My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? John 14:2 NIV

Blindsided by Suicide

My family didn’t know much about depression until my twenty-four-year old nephew, Brandon, took his own life two years ago. We were all in complete shock.

How could he leave in such a way? How could he leave his parents and siblings distraught and destroyed? What happened?

In High School, Brandon excelled in sports. He ran track and played football. He had his choice of colleges to choose from and though he initially chose to attend Stanford on a full-ride scholarship, he changed his mind and went to Kansas University to be closer to his family in Missouri. We were all busting with pride over Brandon. Not only was he going to college, but he was playing football and who doesn’t like college football?

He was red-shirted his freshman year which means he didn’t participate in competitive sport for the entire academic year. He attended KU for five years as a result. Unfortunately, he suffered injury after injury during his time at Kansas University. His freshman year, he broke his ankle and had surgery to repair it with a plate and seven screws. His sophomore year, he got a concussion and was knocked out. He had lines in his vision for a month and was unable to play. He even tore his hamstring which was reattached with surgery.

By his senior year he blew his right knee out and had surgery to fix it with a hamstring tendon. Also, he had a lot of bell ringer concussions that he didn’t report because he wanted to play. The last year injury was devastating because he was the starting running back and it was his year to shine. Before the season officially began, he was on the bench with another injury for his entire senior year.

Everyone was disappointed but Brandon was crushed.

He graduated from KU and went on to play football one more semester at Washburn University in Topeka, Kansas. There, he was the captain of the team and star running back. He had a great end to a difficult college football career.

A college graduate in search of a job, he moved home with his parents to the small town of Potosi, Missouri. No one seemed to understand his sudden disinterest in football. He’d wanted to be in the NFL for years but it was no longer an interest to him.

Recruiters called Brandon but he responded with, “I’m done playing ball.”

He told his parents that he felt like he had to be a gladiator and couldn’t do it anymore.

The last two weeks of his life, he spent almost all of his money. He traveled to see his best friend and former college room-mate, Ben, in another state who noticed Brandon was different and called his parents to let them know he was concerned about him. Brandon’s parents sat down with Brandon and had a serious discussion about the direction of his life. He responded to their concern by stating, “You two are my greatest blessings.”

He seemed more interested in going to church than anything else. He cried a lot and talked about God. He went to talk to his Grandpa (my Dad) about God and asked Dad to pray for him which he did. Some thought he might be feeling called into ministry. He’d become a Christian a few years earlier while in college.

On April 2, 2016 he left in his silver van to go to church. He’d asked his Grandpa to go with him and went to see him right before he left to see if he felt like going. His Grandpa declined the invitation and that was the last time any of his family saw Brandon alive. He never made it to church that evening for the revival. He drove off in the opposite direction.

I’ll never forget my sister calling me to tell me that she’d had to report him missing. I thought it was surreal –

Missing?

I lived in another state and had no idea how desperate the situation really was. I imagined he would be home any moment. There was no need to worry about Brandon. He was such a great kid and always made his parents proud.

But he didn’t come home and there was no activity on his cell phone. They’d picked up the last ping from his phone off a cell phone tower many miles away. A massive search for him was covered by the local news. 

Six days later, they found him sitting in his van by a river with a gunshot wound in his head.

Not all severely depressed people look like this, but there are signs.

You might think they are just acting strange, going through a difficult time, or trying to figure out what on earth to do with their life. But, please don’t assume they are okay. Ask them if they are depressed and even ask them if they are suicidal. If you don’t ask, you won’t know.

It’s hard to see depression if you’ve never been around someone who has fallen into it. Brandon always smiled and never complained. He didn’t necessarily look depressed. Although, he’d always kept his hair and beard trimmed, his mom noticed he stopped caring so much about his appearance. She thought he was simply growing his hair out to attain the popular man-bun. Looking back at his pictures, you can see a difference.

 

Brandon didn’t wear black clothes or stay in bed all day. He got up and went to the gym almost every day. He went mushroom hunting, shopping and spent time with friends. His parents noticed something was wrong but they just didn’t realize how urgent it was. Like most of us, they weren’t educated about depression. They never dreamt for a second that their beloved, educated, college football playing son was suicidal.

Have you ever heard of chronic traumatic encephalopathy, a degenerative brain disease also known as CTE?  If you haven’t, don’t feel alone. We had never heard of it either. Shortly after Brandon’s death, some friends and family asked about having him checked for it.

His parents requested they test him for it but unfortunately, due to the length of time he was missing, they were unable to test his brain for the disease which mostly effects athletes who’ve sustained head injuries such as concussions.

After learning more about the disease and how it causes severe depression and suicide, they are convinced this is what happened to Brandon. Hindsight is 20/20. Looking back after the fact, the signs of CTE were all there, they just didn’t know to look for them.

According to WebMD:

Suicide Warning Signs

Any of the following could be potential warning signs for suicide:

• Excessive sadness or moodiness
• Hopelessness
• Sleep Problems
• Sudden calmness
• Withdrawal
• Changes in personality and/or appearance
• Dangerous or self-harmful behavior
• Recent trauma or life crisis
• Making preparations
• Threatening suicide

If you have a loved one or friend showing any of these signs, take notice especially if they are an athlete or former athlete. Don’t be blindsided by suicide.

From the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline website:

We can all help prevent suicide. The Lifeline provides 24/7, free and confidential support for people in distress, prevention and crisis resources for you or your loved ones, and best practices for professionals. 1-800-273-8255

 

The Last Bike

I see the bike laying on the garage floor as I pull in. I slow down and stop before I bump it with the front of my car. My youngest son has decided this is the place to park his bike.

Its been there for weeks when he’s not riding it but I haven’t found it in my heart to complain. It’s been spray painted more than once and is almost used up.

I probably would have asked my two older sons (when they were still living at home) to move the bike and park it elsewhere. But not him. And not because he’s special or anything. It’s just that I realize this is the last bike. 

He’s the youngest of our three boys so we’ve had quite a few bikes thrown about. They’ve been laying on the garage floor, thrown on the sidewalk, left in the middle of the yard and taken apart to be worked on, or tires changed - everywhere. 

Next month he will turn fifteen and get his driver’s permit. He will become consumed with driving. I know this because of his two older brothers who have already left the nest. 

Soon, he won’t care about his old bicycle at all. It will become junk in his eyes, and end up abandoned beside the shed where it will rust and collect spiderwebs.

My oldest son is getting married a week from today. I thought I’d be emotional about that but I’m nothing but happy for him and Megan. They're going to make a great married couple and I can’t wait to celebrate. 

Instead, I find myself mournful over my youngest son hitting this stage of life. I can’t stop the tears as I grieve the passing of his childhood. It went by too quickly. He wanted to grow up and be like his older brothers. And that’s wonderful because they are good older brothers. I just wish I could turn back time and enjoy him again as a child.

So, I snap a picture of the bike. A reminder of a childhood almost gone and the last child almost grown. 

And I don’t mention anything to him about better places to park the last bike.

Mr. Google

Hi. My name is Melinda and I’m directionally challenged. 

It all started back in the seventh grade in Mrs. Griggs’ class. We were studying the direction of highways and I just didn’t get it. She found it odd that such a simple concept was beyond my comprehension. I did well in her class in every other area. 

I’ve gone the wrong direction too many times to count. It’s a running joke at my house that if I’m heading to Nashville then I’ll end up at Percy Priest Lake. Ha! That’s only happened a few times, though.

Before the GPS, I’d make my husband draw me a map showing me exactly which road to turn on. Right or left. None of that - North, South, East or West stuff – PLEASE! With his map in hand, I easily made it to my destination because it was laid out for me in detail in a simple way that I understood.

My GPS has stopped working so I attempted to use Google Directions in order to get to a friend’s house last night for a meeting. I put the address in and headed down the road with no worries of getting there on time since it was very close to where I live. I’d made an appetizer and it shouldn’t have taken me over thirty minutes to get there even with school bus traffic.

However, when I first put in her address, I looked at the map. I felt pretty certain where in the Goodlettsville area her house was located. So, when the directions had me going the back way, I thought I’d just drive to the main street in her town and figure it out from there. Big mistake. 

I ended up pulled over on the main street trying to find an address on a building to put into my phone so I could get back on track again. It was now the time I said I’d be at her house. I would be late. After two attempts to find my way from my new location using my phone, I grudgingly dialed my husband, Mr. Google, and asked for help.

“Give me her address,” He said. Then he asked, “Where are you?” Then I heard a low laugh and he advised me, “You’re way off. You need to get back onto Long Hollow Pike and head the other direction…” Of course, he then gave me landmarks to look for and which side of the road to turn off of, etc. I finally made it to my friend’s house for the meeting.

I would love to blame the issue on Google Directions because it didn’t speak the directions to me out loud and I didn’t want to be fumbling with my cell phone while I was driving. But since this has been a lifetime problem for me, I really can’t blame Google.

But I have to accept the fact that I am direction-ally challenged.

I think everyone is when it comes to getting through this life. We don’t want to follow directions. We think we can figure things out on our own and find our way. This is why I’m so thankful for God’s directions He left for us. I read them. I do my best to follow His direction. Because without them, I’m LOST. That much I know.

I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with My eye upon you. Psalm 32:8 ESV

PS. I’m also thankful for my husband, Mr. Google. 💜

Following

Growing up, I had a pesky little sister four years my junior. She seemed to follow me everywhere. If I wanted to go for a walk to get away from her or ride my bike, suddenly she wanted to do the same thing.

It was annoying to have someone following me. Trying to lose her was sometimes fun, though. 😆

It's funny that now-a-days everyone seems to want others to follow them. We see this daily in our news feed. Follow me on Instagram. Follow me on Twitter. Follow my blog. Follow me...follow me...follow ME. Everybody wants a following.

To those of us who have pages of some sort, followers are important. 😀

Does it cost us anything to follow someone? Not really.

Eventually, we may see too many posts or emails from them. It might get on our nerves. Then we simply "unfollow" the page or blog and move on with our lives.

All this following got me to thinking about Jesus though.

As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, He saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come follow Me," Jesus said, "and I will send you out to fish for people." At once they left their nets and followed Him. Mark 1:16-18

He was the first person that I know of to ask others to follow Him. (hehehe)

When He asked His disciples to follow, they dropped whatever they were doing and followed. They left their jobs. They left their families. It cost them a lot to follow Jesus. But what they gained was PRICELESS. He is the one person that EVERYONE should be following.

As for my little sister, I wish there was a way to go back in time and enjoy those early years with her again. I'd handle it a bit differently and ask her to follow me. ❤

Like Him...

Recently, our first grandchild was born. It was so exciting. There were several other family members at the hospital awaiting her birth with us. One of those, was her Great Grandma, Gandy. We noticed she disappeared around eight thirty but didn't think too much of it until my son, who was in the delivery room, stopped texting me.

Something was happening.

Great Grandma Gandy came strolling back to the waiting room. Took her seat across from me and said, "I think I heard a baby cry."

There were other babies down the hall so we suggested it might be one of those babies she heard but she responded, "No, I had my ear to the crack of the door...listening."

I'm sure I gasped. But honestly, I was impressed. It hadn't even crossed my mind to try and listen at the delivery room door!

She was right. A few minutes later, my son texted me and said, "She's here!"

We were buzzing with excitement waiting for someone to come and give us more information. Like how much does she weigh? Does she have hair? Is everything okay?

Then my daughter-in-law's mother came down the hall and said that they had taken the baby to NICU. She was okay but having trouble breathing. It seemed she'd inhaled amniotic fluid into her lungs.

That's when our excitement and joy turned to concern. We expected everything to go well with her birth and planned on holding her that night. Instead, we visited with everyone in our daughter-in-law's room and realized we weren't going to be allowed to see the baby anytime soon.

Everyone was disappointed but thankful she was in good hands and that our daughter-in-law was doing well. So, eventually, we called it a night and headed home. We didn't see our granddaughter  or touch her. Holding her was out of the question.

The next day, we were allowed to scrub up, wear masks and visit our granddaughter in the NICU. We could touch her but nobody could hold her except for her Momma.

It was five days after her birth when we were finally allowed to hold her. By then there was some anticipation built up. 😍

So, when I held her with nothing attached to her, it was priceless. She'd just eaten so she was content and awake. I enjoyed her so much. It was more wonderful than I imagined.

Most interesting, was observing her little features. Her eyes and mouth look like Sydney, her Momma and she has her dark hair.

She has my son's distinctive little ears and the famous "Eye toes" that run on my side of the family. (They will pick things up off the floor if you're too lazy to bend down to get something. tee hee)

Those features are my son's. But they are also mine.  I know she's like him because of what I see in her. He got those features from me and I got them from my Dad. It gave me a wonderful feeling to see those same features in my granddaughter.

Surely, our Heavenly Father feels the same way when He observes His Son's features in us. ❤

Children's children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children. Proverbs 17:6 

More than enough

Christmas is upon us. Somehow it crept up on me again this year. 💚

This week, there was a discussion at work about buying gifts for our children and a co-worker mentioned a concern about buying those gifts. I've experienced the exact feeling so I think it must be pretty common. He stated that when he thinks he's done shopping he keeps going over in his mind, "Well, maybe I should get them this or that..." So, he buys more gifts. Then he said even when it's said and done and he's completely finished shopping, he worries about what he bought them and wonders, "Is it enough?"

Sadly, it puts a lot of stress on parents. We don't want to disappoint our kids. We want to give them everything they dream of receiving for Christmas and more. Sometimes, that's difficult and expensive.

I admit this year, for whatever reason, I've found it difficult to feel the heart of Christmas. That feeling that I love so much that's not found in decorations, shopping, cooking or even celebrations and parties. I've felt a little bit like Cindy Lou Who singing the song, "Where are you Christmas?"

This morning we went to a breakfast at a friend's house that they have every year on Christmas Eve before we went to church. I developed a headache and almost decided to skip church and go home. But I popped some Ibuprofen and we headed to the busiest service of the year at Long Hollow Baptist Church.

Finally, it was there amidst thousands of worshipers singing a simple Christmas song that I finally found my heart this Christmas. My emotions overwhelmed me in thankfulness and love for the child who came to give us everything.

There were no thoughts of whether our gifts to our children this Christmas are enough or not because what He gave us is more than enough. These three words that I've had on my mind all week were also used by Pastor Robby in his sermon this morning. 💜

Thank you God for your perfect plan in all things. Thank you for giving us the perfect gift that is MORE than enough.

For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16 NIV 

Closing Doors

A couple of weeks ago, I took my daughter-in-law to the mall shopping for a new dress. After we looked around and didn't find anything she cared for, we decided to go to a different store down the road.

Somehow, as we were getting into the car to leave the mall, I shut the car door on my left foot as I was climbing inside the vehicle. I yelped in pain and grabbed my boot-clad foot stunned that I slammed the door shut on my own limb. 

Finally, the pain subsided enough to drive and I had to laugh at myself. I couldn't remember ever doing that before. Why did I think I should close the door before I was all the way inside of the car? The top of my foot turned purple to remind me of my clumsiness.

Last weekend, I stepped outside onto the deck to feed my poor, hungry cat who stared at me through the glass every time I walked by. As I stepped back inside the house after feeding her, I shut the patio door on my left pointer finger. 

I grabbed my finger writhing in pain and immediately it became numb, swollen and turned purple. Luckily, it wasn't broken. 

Wait...
Didn't I just do this same careless thing less than two weeks ago to my left foot? (Which, by the way, just healed up and the color is back to normal.) Why am I closing doors on myself and causing my own pain? 

Most of us have heard the phrase, "When God closes a door - He opens a window." It's really a nice thought and I wish I would have coined the phrase. 😉 But what about when we close the door? And it hurts...

Sometimes we do this in life. We try to exit before we should. Maybe we're hurt, angry or just plum tired and we can't take it any more. It could be a job, marriage or even giving up on a dream. Have you ever closed a door that should have been left open?

Closing doors in life is usually a difficult decision but closing it before we should can be more painful. (Just ask my left foot and pointer finger...lol)

But they that wait on the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. AKJV

God advises us to wait for Him. If we wait, we will be strengthened. Then we will know when to close the door. Or maybe leave it open. ❤ 

   

Someone

We have so much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. ❤ But I'm particularly thankful this year for someone.

I hoped one day I might get a grandchild. I prayed God would bless me with a little granddaughter since my own attempts for daughters brought me spunky little boys instead. (And God knows I wouldn't trade them for anything in this world.)  

However, my son Jestin and daughter-in-law, Sydney are expecting a baby girl in January, 2018. She is already formed in the womb and growing bigger and stronger everyday.

My mind is blown at how clear sonograms are these days. This picture is at 23 weeks and is a 4D sonogram. I can see by this profile shot that she will look a lot like her Momma. I'm sure my son's traits are there too but not visible yet.

This photo is my favorite because she seems to be deep in thought. ❤

With today's technology, we're able to get a small glimpse of what God sees and reminds me of one of my favorite scriptures.

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous - how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered! Psalms 139:13-17

I want to kiss this little cheek so much! I know I already ADORE this child. How precious to know she is part of our family.

Sweet little Presley Lynn Cooper. I cannot wait to meet you. 💗

Carry me

We just got back from a wonderful beach vacation ❤

We haven't taken a family vacation for about five years, it seems. So, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. The downside was that we got there when a hurricane was hitting the gulf. But it was a Category One and we weren't directly in it's path. When we arrived, the water was all the way up to the dunes and as muddy as the Mississippi River.

Even though the conditions were not ideal for relaxation, we figured we'd never be at the beach again during a hurricane so we tried to make the best of a bad situation. It was definitely exciting. 😅

So, we went shopping and drove to see sights the next day because the beach was too wild to enjoy. Wind and waves, wind and waves. But by the next day, we could go sit on the beach and listen to that wonderful relaxing sound of waves rolling in and splashing on the sand.

By the last full day we had to enjoy the beach, it was finally the way I imagined our vacation would be. The brown water cleared up as the shoreline receded from the dunes and there were more folks enjoying the day alongside us on the beach.

There was a little girl there about seven or eight years old who spent the majority of the day using a skim board directly in front of us. She had some pretty good skills, I must say!

As we were about to leave the beach and go eat dinner, I noticed that she and her daddy were walking out into the ocean together. Each time a big wave came, they'd jump and walk on farther out. Eventually, he was holding her hand and then finally she was riding on his back with her arms wrapped around his neck. (How I wish I would have snapped a picture of this!)

I was reminded of a dream I had right before we went on vacation where my dad was with me and I was hugging his back in a similar way and he said, "What a wonderful surprise!" Then he called me by my nickname he rarely uses these days. When I awoke from the dream, I pondered it and realized it's been a long time since he called me that and I haven't hugged his back since childhood.

Seeing the little girl in the ocean with her dad brought back to memory the safety I felt riding on my Daddy's back when I was young. I completely trusted that he would carry me safely to our destination, wherever that might be.

I took a break from my daily Bible reading while we were traveling so when we got home, I settled back into my routine. I was taken aback by some of the first verses I read considering the little girl riding on her Daddy's back was still fresh in my mind.

"Listen to me, family of Jacob, everyone that's left of the family of Israel.
I've been carrying you on my back from the day you were born, 
And I'll keep on carrying you when you're old.
I'll be there, bearing you when you're old and gray.
I've done it and will keep on doing it, carrying you on my back, saving you." Isaiah 46:3-4 

Honestly, I read it over and over. I found great comfort in those words. ❤

I know that God demonstrated this to me before we left for vacation with the dream and while we were at the beach with a picture of a little girl clinging to her Daddy's back with her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he walked her out into the great depths of the ocean. The water was over her head but it was not over his.

No matter what the future holds and even when I'm old and gray, I know He will carry me. 

PS. I'm not that far away from old and gray...tee hee  ❤

Humbled

About five years ago, as I walked across the basement floor toward my Sunday School classroom at church, God spoke to my spirit, "You need to humble yourself."

Humble myself?

What exactly does that mean? It concerned and confused me because I didn't feel that I thought of myself more highly than others.

I was raised in a humble home getting the things in life we needed and not much else. I'm from a big family raised in a little town. I started working at 13 years of age as a waitress at the local YMCA (back when you could work that young!) and have never been one for fancy things.

My first car was an old Toyota Corolla that you could start with a butter knife!

Plus, I never finished college. I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life at that age.

So, I pondered this instruction from God and wondered what exactly it was He saw in me that He didn't like and I needed to change.

Unknown to me at that time, I was coming into a season of life where I would be humbled. I would be humbled to the point where nothing was what I thought it was in my life and only God was who He said He was.

As I look back now, I know why I needed to humble myself. It wasn't that I thought too much of myself compared to others. The problem was I didn't think ENOUGH of who God is and who He is not.

He was the one with me 24/7 during the most difficult time of my life. He was the one by my side when I was alone. He was the one I cried to daily begging for help during my darkest hour. He never left me. He never forsook me. He loved me at my lowest and through the darkest time of my Christian life.

I couldn't have imagined thinking any more highly of God at the moment I walked across the basement floor at church that morning five years ago. He was in a very high place in my life. But during the season of testing that followed, He rose above ALL else. He took His rightful place in my heart, mind, spirit - my entire life. 

How humbled I now am because of who HE is.

He is everything to me. He is perfect. He loves in a way that we can't comprehend. He parents His children in the most wonderful way. Teaching us the difficult things in life.

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, 1 Peter 5:6 (ESV)

The heart of it...

My parents always sliced a watermelon when I was young. 

We kids would grab a slice, sit on the porch together and a seed spitting competition would begin! Definitely a happy childhood memory! 

At some point, when I became an adult and paid for my own watermelons, I decided that scooping it out into a dish was my preferred way to eat it. Slices are too messy.

Once, when we were staying with my in-laws, I bought a watermelon and helped myself to some in my usual way. Later on that evening, my father-in-law took the foil off the partially eaten watermelon sitting in the fridge and with great shock at what he uncovered said, "Who took the heart right out of the watermelon?!"

I said, "Umm....me." Suddenly realizing that he was old-school and thought scooping the heart out of it was the WRONG way to eat a watermelon!

He might be right. 😉

The heart is the best part and when it's gone, the rest of the watermelon is not quite the same. It's still good but it gets more distasteful the further you get from the heart and the closer you get to the bitter rind. Then what's left gets thrown out.

Sometimes, we do this same thing in life. We take the best part and leave the rest. I guess it's human nature.

As a woman, I know that this happens to us. We give and give of ourselves until we have nothing left taking care of our homes, families, spouses and working jobs. Then we walk around feeling empty because the heart is gone and that's a tough place to be. Empty, numb and sometimes bitter.

When we get so far from the heart of things, we just want to get the sweetness of life back. We want to get back to the heart of it all.

I'm so glad that God gives the best part instead of taking it.

When we have nothing left and it seems that all the good parts have been scooped out, is when He fills us up again...to overflowing.

He never fails.

Trust Him.

Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Psalm 51:10 NIV

Roots

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before but I get picked on a lot. ❤

It seems that my childhood stories (and some from adulthood) get twisted and used against me.

All in fun, of course!

One of those stories is about roots. It usually comes up something like this...

We are eating a meal and someone complains or makes a comment about something we are eating. Then somehow it turns into a question geared toward me, "Didn't you used to eat roots?"

Then I argue, "No! I did NOT eat roots!"

They all laugh at me. Then I go into the "roots" story explaining that when I was young, my dad was a part time pastor and worked full time in the lead mines. At times, he was either laid off or on strike and had to provide for his large family. One of the things he did during these times was dig ginseng roots. They are interesting looking and worth quite a lot.

When we kids got home from school, he would make us clean buckets of roots with a toothbrush. After they were washed, he laid them on the roof of our house to dry in the sun. Then he sold them. I remember how proud he was once when he got his check and was able to buy groceries!

I have to say that even though it's a joke on me now-a-days, I'm sure this work ethic displayed for me by my dad greatly impacted my life. He found a way to get us through those difficult times.

It's no joke to me that these are my roots. I'm glad they are.

I'm thankful for parents who worked hard and made an honest living as an example for their children. Even if it makes for a funny story later in life ❤

Plant your roots in Christ and let Him be the foundation for your life. Be strong in your faith, just as you were taught. And be grateful. Colossians 2:7-9 (CEV)

Maybe we're lame...

I ran away from home once before I was even old enough to be in school yet. My mom made me angry because she wouldn't allow me to wear a blue ruffled dress I'd received and I felt strongly that I should be able to wear it around the house if I wanted to.

So, I went outside and stewed over it.

My oldest sister, Kathy, saw me sitting on the sidewalk and asked what happened. I explained my plight and she said she'd run away with me if I wanted to. I gladly agreed and thought it would be a good way to get even with Mom.

She took me to the creek about a mile down the road where we spent the day skipping rocks and catching tadpoles and crawdads. Finally, I got tired and hungry. She suggested we eat some crawdad tails but I scrunched my nose up at that idea.

"Good," she said, "cause I forgot to bring ketchup!" We laughed and walked back home. Mom never mentioned me running away and I didn't mention the dress again either. ❤

I have to say that I've grown up a bit since then and now it really takes A LOT to make me angry. I generally just shrug my shoulders and am like "Okay...whatever."

But there are a couple of things that I have no patience for and that's a liar and a thief.

Either of those two things will make me very angry. Especially if I know the truth and if the person is a Christian.

What if another Christian's lies tear our world apart?
What if their lies cause months of tears and constant heartache?
What if they never say "I'm sorry..."?
What then?

Shouldn't we be more forgiving and grant grace and mercy as God has done for us?

Yes.

But maybe we are lame. Feeble and weak. Incapable of the depth of forgiveness needed to move past the pain inflicted by fellow Christians. Maybe the problem is our own. Our great expectation of other Christians is completely delusional.

Only by the healing power of God Almighty will we no longer be lame. 

I find this definition interesting...(of a person or animal) unable to walk normally because of an injury or illness affecting the leg or foot. 

Sadly, we can be spiritually injured by other Christians as we journey through this world. But God is our healer. Nothing is impossible for Him.

When Jesus saw him lying there, and knew that he had already been a long time in that condition, He said to him, "Do you wish to get well?" The sick man answered Him, "Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, but while I am coming, another steps down before me." Jesus said to him, "Get up, pick up your pallet and walk." Immediately the man became well, and picked up his pallet and began to walk. John 5 6-9

I love that Jesus saw him lying there, and knew...

He knows we are lame. He knows the areas in our life that need healing. He knows how we got the affliction. He knows how to heal it.

When God does something - it is DONE. ❤

The Nest...

About a month ago, a bird started making a nest underneath the roof that covers the entrance of the business where I work.

I couldn't believe a bird would try to make a nest there because my employer has gone to great efforts to prevent such a thing. I assume they don't want bird droppings all over the concrete outside the front door! 

There are spikes set all along the inside of the roof covering and this is why it was so interesting to see a bird actually make a nest among the spikes. 

I snapped a few pictures of her building the nest and to tell you the truth, almost forgot about it. Until, last week, when I heard birds peeping inside the nest and the mother bird feeding them!

I felt a wonderful feeling inside when I saw that she'd succeeded in building a nest there and that her baby birds were alive and well.

It seems such a simple, natural thing for a bird to build a nest, lay eggs and mother her babies. But the extraordinary effort she went to to build her nest and provide a safe place for her babies amazed me. I was so proud of this mother bird outside the window at work! lol

Even though she was discouraged to build a nest there, she did it anyway.
Even though it was an unusual place to build a nest, she did it anyway.
Even though the spikes were sorta dangerous, she did it anyway.
Even though we were all staring at her like she was a crazy bird, she did it anyway. HA!

I guess I love this bird.

To be honest, she couldn't have chosen a better place to build a nest. 💗

Look at the birds of the sky: They don't sow or reap or gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren't you worth more than they? Matthew 6:26 (HCSB)