Uncategorized

My Real and Giving Thanks for It

So there’s the small boy who I took to Florida so his little lungs could breath fresh air after a winter of being stuck in the house cause the cold creates pain, and now he himself creates pain when I step on the clothespins dumped on the floor.

  

And then there’s the garrulous boy who I’m trying to raise into a loving husband and father, but lately, this half made sandwich is, well, telling THAT story.

  

And then there’s the tall girl with her craftiness and love-of-all-things nature piling into this spilling house….

And, yeah, that’s the real of my life.

   

 

But fresh snow fell in the Sabbath night and I could hear His voice call me awake and He said, “In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.”  1 Thessalonians 5:18.

And then I see He also gives me these mornings and I hold my complaining tongue and reach for my pen instead.

  

Grace, Judah's Journey, Uncategorized

When I’m Struck By His Toddler Testimony

He’s one and cutting molars. He’s also pulling clean laundry straight out of the dryer and bread pans out of the cupboard and clothes pins are cascading and spinning across the floor. But when those voices sing out of that one little blue speaker, he’s still enough to sleep. I look at him for the seven hundredth time this morning, cause that’s what Mama’s with toddlers do, and I see it again. Him, bobbing his head up and down like he was mechanically engineered to do it. Cause when that voice sings of sleeping in heavenly peace, the boy nods in the knowing.

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This is a boy whose first sleep was the womb of this woman, but at only 23 weeks and 2 days gestation, her womb would give up and his sleep was abruptly moved to an isolate where he would spend the next four months. So when he nods like that? When he moves his head to music that raises notice to the baby Jesus? I feel the burn in my throat at my own knowing.

I know I am the woman of Shunem. The one whose faith and emotions ran the dusty road to fall at her Saviors feet and beg Him to come. Immediately, if not sooner. Come and breath breathe into this baby. The surprise baby that soon became the prayed over baby.


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  And follow-ups have been many and long and he’s got more miles under him than the ranger running our seventy-four acres. He’s been taking his tiny testimony with its depth of mercy and waving good-bye to one. after. another. All these medical professionals teary-eyed at his teetering happy dance and I notice the subtlety in his left-handed index finger pointing straight up at each of them. And could it be? His unspoken pointer proving heavenly lights can shine even in tiny boys?