What I really want to eat this week

I will miss making all of my husband's family's favorites...whipped sweet potatoes, broccoli casserole, the "dressing", the green beans, the endless lines of pies, the apple stack cake

But we will eat together, and I will not miss the stories, the games, the time.

I will miss my grandma. My first Thanksgiving without a living grandparent. Their traditions, their steadfastness, their ever-present love.

But we will make her noodles, and pile them on mashed potatoes, and make a ham instead of a turkey, and remember her in each bite.

I will miss my "boy"...his willingness to hold my hand in public - or any motherly PDA; his boyish features; my slight advantage in strength....all have been fading, and with this, the 12th birthday, are disappearing.

But we will eat his All Boy birthday menu on his Thanksgiving Day Birthday (who else gets to eat corn dogs on Thanksgiving Day? Anyone? Anyone?) and sing to him and be so thankful for the boy he is and the man he is becoming.

I will miss the "way things were" - I've always been bad at change - but I will embrace the "way things are" and remember the One Who Always Is - He is my Rock.

And I will eat...

"Come, all you who are thirsty,
    come to the waters;
and you who have no money, 
    come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
    without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread,
    and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
    and you will delight in the richest of fare.
Give ear and come to me; 
    listen, that you may live." 

The urge to scream is strong in you, I see*

I can take it from here/
And have no where to go.**

I can take it for years/
And have nothing to show.

I'll wait for you/
Now more than ever.

I see it's true/
Now more than ever.

I'll wait for you, now.

Sara Groves, Invisible Empires

*How big would the font have to be (and soooo big to hold all the irony) to make "WAKE UP PEOPLE!" actually cause some to just. stop. the. madness? Why do we insist on storing up "treasures" that will rust and rot and that have no value in what really matters?

** "....not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord." Zec. 4:6

A "Real" Man

I asked God for strength that I might achieve. I was made weak that I might learn to humbly obey. I asked for health that I might do greater things. I was given infirmity that I might do better things. I asked for riches that I might be happy. I was given poverty that I might be wise. I asked for power that I might have the praise of men. I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God. I asked for all things that I might enjoy life. I was given life that I might enjoy all things. I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I hoped for. Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered. I am, among all men, most richly blessed.”

Sometimes I marvel because of how different your life must look than how you imagined it. Ohio? Five children? No 4-wheeler? Really? But then I think of how your life is just like you imagined it: Ohiofivechildrenno4wheeler so inconsequential...faithfulness to God in whatever circumstances.
You are a real man.

Sometimes I can't stand you. I take all of my exhaustion and undone dishes and undone repairs and undone goals and undone responsibilities and I pile them up on the easily accessible corner of my distorted mind called Your Fault. You did not sign up for this. You do not fight back. You do not blame back. You don't do the same thing to me because you know I would crumble under the accusation because my patience-meter is always hanging by a measly thread. You wait. You hold no grudges when I regain my senses.
You are a real man.

Sometimes you mess up. Or get lazy. Or ignore consequences we agreed upon for the kids. Or let depressing thoughts control your actions. You are not perfect.
You are a real man.

Sometimes (All The Time?!?) you are faced with career detours. Oh, that long-lived goal of being an engineer has been fulfilled - probably, in reality, when you were born. But life and poor decisions and good decisions and opportunities seem to arrive like a weekly package. I love your dreams. I love your ideas. Don't stop.
You are a real man.

Sometimes friends, family, strangers, restaurant patrons compliment our well-behaved children. How wonderful and sweet and quiet and mature. They assume - oh the irony! - they assume because I'm home with them that it's because of me. I, the Lord, my family, and you, know the truth. You defy every misguided stereotype this world places on a father. You are so strong, and so gentle. You discipline with the long view. You have always seen them as the people they are becoming. They know, deep in their hearts, that you enjoy being with them and always will.
You are a real man.

And I pray that your 41st year is real and good and blessed in a way that only the Lord can do. I love you. 

Another reason why I wish I drank coffee

Scene: our living room, 7:09 a.m., everyone curled up in a chair or couch as we start our day

Me: So, in John this morning...."He who has My commandments and keeps them is the one who loves Me; and he who loves Me will be loved by My Father, and I will love him and will disclose Myself to him.”

Leah: Mom. I have an interesting question.

Me: (smiling) Lay it on me.

Leah: So, how do you know if you actually love Jesus?

(Maybe we should move Bible lessons to a different part of the day...!!)