Why I Had Children

[I make no apologies for this entry, but I do tell you right up front it is filled with pictures and thoughts from a still-smitten grandmother. I still encourage you to read to the end.]

The Georgia National Fair is a huge event in the town where I live. This year saw a record of over 500,000 fair-goers. My husband, children and I have been attending every year's event since its inauguration in 1989 when Ray Stevens was the featured entertainer. Yes, our children have practically grown up riding "The Gentle Giant" Ferris wheel, feeding exotic animals and watching more circus acts than most people their ages can boast. But it's what we did; and what we still do.

However, this year was different. Of the 11 days that the fair was in town, our 4 year old grandson was here for the first 5 of them. What was really only to be a one day excursion turned into 5 days of fun; and, boy, what fun we had!

Each morning began with the little fellow sitting in my lap out on the deck in the Adirondack chair cuddled up in a honey colored blanket. Sometimes we would read, but most of the time we would just watch the birds. He got quite proficient at naming the "Go, Dog!" birds (a.k.a. cardinals) and telling me whether they were girl birds or boy birds. On more than one occasion, a flock of noisy geese flew over. I taught him one should not gawk heavenward when that happens but rather close his mouth. We watched woodpeckers and doves and hummingbirds among many other assorted feathered friends. And his belly laugh at the squirrels chasing each other around and around the tree was enough to make this grandmother chuckle out loud herself.

Before too long, the day was in full force and it was time for some fair fun and food.

His cousin accompanied us on several days.

Dumbo was the first ride.

Way up in the sky on the Gentle Giant Ferris wheel took some nerve.

Learning to flip on the trampoline was a major accomplishment.

On to the train.

The world famous carousel! One must always ride (including this grandmother) this one.
Not only was it in the movie, "Big," with Tom Hanks, Elvis Presley himself also did a gig with this one.

The brave young man tackled the swing.

Getting on our game faces for Robinson"s Racing Pigs.

He fed EVERY animal at the petting zoo -- except for the huge cow with the daunting horns. I don't blame him.

We stayed so late that first night that we even got to watch the fireworks.

His Uncle Bobba's tepee is always a hit -- and fun. And being family, they got to cross the "Do Not Cross" rope.

We saw cows but we got to ride horses.

The Agrilift at night is a must.

And at the Saturday morning parade, we got to meet Minion.

He begged to do the Muttin' Bustin', but this is as close as we would let him get without his parent's permission. Maybe next year, little man.

I-flip was a hit!

As were the bumper cars.

An up close encounter with a REAL race car.

Cutest little Captain America I ever did see.

He rode the race car roller coaster with Uncle Charles.

And the Tidal Wave.

And the bumper cars again.

He got to fly solo for a change.

And climb a rock -- sort of. 8 feet was about as high as he would go.  After 45 minutes of waiting in line.

Day 5 found his mom and dad in tow and him sportin' a tiger's face. 

Did I mention he liked the bumper cars?

And the roller coaster.

We drank milk and milked cows.

And we discovered that trees can walk and talk.

We also went to the circus, saw the pirate show, the magic show, watched the monkey show, the sea lion show and spent way too long in the building demonstrating to us the process of growing a chicken. We ate corndogs, hotdogs, hamburgers, chicken strips, roasted corn and funnel cake. And, yes, he and his cousin even danced wildly to Grand Funk Railroad's,"We're an American Band," as they played live on stage opening night. Yes, fun was indeed had by all. But especially by this grandmother.

The end of Day 5 saw our little man safely strapped into his car seat after having been kissed profusely and thanked a hundred times for coming. As they always do, his daddy rolled down the window so we could see him waving to us and so we could throw one more kiss. And as the Jeep was placed in reverse and began making its way to the end of the driveway, my grandson waved one more time and yelled, "Thank you, G-Nan! I loved watching the birds with you!"

YES!!!!!!! A thousand times YES, my sweet one. So did I. So did I.

And that, my friends, is why I had children.

Children's children are a crown to the aged. 

Proverbs 17:6

Just an ordinary moment...

What I Learned in August

Well, here I am ... finally. It has been weeks (months?) since I last posted. It's not that things weren't going around in my head. Somehow they just never made it to paper. But a friend posted a blog this morning that got me to thinking; and if I'm going to do it, I HAVE to do it today ... before the month runs out. What I learned in August.

A darling friend, Annie Downs, posted what she learned in August -- an idea that she herself received from her friend. After reading Annie's list, I wondered the same about myself. August seemed to buzz past; but surely something was attained during the fly by. And so I opened my journal to the last month and here's what I found.

1. Power just is. Out of context that may seem a little strange so here it is read within the text of Awaken the Sleeper by Nick Castellano.  "Vision should not be forced. Force is about you. Force takes energy. Stand in power; power just is." I seem to want to make things happen, and quite frankly, that can be very tiring. If I could just remember to "stand in power" and let God do His thing. The world would be such a better place.

2.  'Tis good to try to see the world through God's eyes than always trying to see God in the world.

3.  There are women in my life whose flames have burned brightly and reminded me of my own small flame. You know who you are and I bless you this day. Oh, that may I be a candle that stirs others' flames to new life.

4.  "It's one thing to go through the Bible, it is quite another thing for the Bible to go through you." That was a quote from my friend Len Sweet's mama. Mabel Boggs Sweet was one smart woman.

5.  Don't push the river; just trust the power of the flow.  (See #1.) God has astounded me recently by the way He has allowed an opportunity to just fall in my lap. Now if I can just remember the flow of that river.

6.  "Rake the muck this way. Rake the muck that way. It will still be muck. In the time you are brooding, you could be stringing pearls for the delight of heaven." Yep.

7.  When you are identified with the kingdom, then when you speak the kingdom speaks, when you act the kingdom acts." E. Stanley Jones, The Way. I truly want to be about kingdom living. Which leads to number

8.  "The kingdom belongs to God and no amount of human conniving can figure it out." -- Barbara Brown Taylor in Bread of Angels. So I guess what I need to do is just stand in power and trust the flow of the river.

9.  "... in the end, love alone remains." God is love, and all that we really are is a manifestation of the eternal love of God." -- James Finley and what he learned from Thomas Merton. 

And lastly,

10. Cabot cheese is totally lactose free.

Just an ordinary moment...

This Morning's "Quiet" Time

A number of years ago while reading a Henri Nouwen book for my Lenten devotionals, I was struck by a prayer that read, "Open my senses to Your presence, Lord." It reverberated so strongly in me that I took it as my own and even had my friend Vicki put it on one of her botanicals for me. Not only has it stayed in eye's view for all these years here in my sun room, it has lodged itself deeply within my heart.

Open my senses to Your presence, Lord!

For the last few months, I have found my morning devotional spot out on my deck. Very early, I pick up my basket of books, stick some cushions under my arms, grab my pencil and glasses while balancing my hot blueberry tea in my hand and carefully and quietly head out the door before the sun makes its way over the horizon. I yearn for this place. Love this place. And this morning was no different. 

If there's anything I've learned in these recent years is not to bury my head in a book -- and that includes my Bible. Because, you see, "the heavens are telling the glory of God and the firmament is proclaiming his handiwork. Day to day is pouring forth speech and night to night is declaring knowledge." In fact, "there is no speech, nor are there words; their voice is not heard; YET their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world." (See Ps. 19:1-4)

Open my senses to Your presence, Lord!

So often we see God in the "heavens": in the way He expresses Himself in a rainbow or shouts "Glory!" from a beautiful sunset. And indeed that's true. But Psalm 19 also says the "firmament." And so, suddenly, my "quiet time" wasn't so quiet anymore as He opened my senses to

• the bumble bee finding nectar in the purple bloom
• the boisterous carolina wren calling from high in the pecan tree
• the cat bird perched on the pine "meowing" softly to another
• the drop in humidity when the sun broke above the trees
• the cool breeze that ensued
• the smell of green
• the smooth flapping of a cardinal's wings as it flew just over my head
• the downie woodpecker backing down the tree to get to the suet
• the neighbor's cheery whistle as he, too, woke with the dawn
• the red wing blackbird chasing a large moth across the backyard
• the fragrant smell of potted basil just off my deck
• the dew drops circling each strawberry leaf
• the fly rubbing its front legs together as if he were about to eat something tasty
• the 2 squirrels playing chase up, down and around the tree trunk
• the sound of the first cicadas of the season
• the warmth of the sun on the left side of my face
• the taste of blueberry tea on my tongue

Yes, day to day POURS forth speech. It may be without words, but the voice goes out through all the earth. And quiet times become not so quiet as God comes near. I guess the defining question might need to be, "Are your senses open?"

Open my senses to Your presence, Lord. 

Yes. Let it be!

Just an ordinary moment...

Learning How to Pray ... from a 4-year-old

I got to do something recently that I've been waiting literally my whole life to do. I got to take my grandson to his school and drop him off ... all by myself. Yes, I was the giddy, trying-to-act-mature, strutting-like-a-peacock-in-full-bloom grandmother, acting like I was the first to ever do such. I was also scared to death when I drove off. "Please, God, don't let me forget to pick him up!" (I distinctly remember that same feeling when I dropped my firstborn off for his first day of kindergarten.) Well, I didn't forget. In fact, I was first in line! No surprise there.

As I made preparations for this all important duty, I received my instructions the night before from his parents. What time I needed to leave in order to get him there on time; which line to get in; what time to pick him up; whether or not he could carry his lovies in, etc. And then one very important instruction. 

"And we always pray on the way to school."

Now there was something this grandmother could handle. I immediately had flashbacks of raising my own 3 kids. When they were younger, we would pray on the way to school. As they got older and we lived in Richmond Hill, I would call each one to my rocker in my bedroom and pray with them there. And after we moved to this home and the oldest was now driving, we prayed around the breakfast table. Yes, I had this one down. So off the little guy and I went with lunch box, backpack, and 2 lovies (which had to remain in the car).

As we pulled out of the neighborhood, I said, "Okay, let's pray." To which I was told, "Not yet." 

We got to the first traffic light, and I said, "Now do we pray?" 

"No, G-Nan,." 

Next traffic light. "Now?"

"No."

"Okay, why don't you just tell me when we are supposed to pray." By this time, I was feeling less secure in my position as grandmother.

As we pulled up to the last and final traffic light, the cute little brown-eyed 4-year old said, "Now."

Not really sure of the whole MO anymore, I inquired, "Do I pray, or do you?"

"You pray first, and then I will." 

As so I did. "Jesus. Thank you for this day. Please be with Jude as he's at school. Help him to be a good boy and a leader among his friends." (He quickly interrupted and told me it wasn't his day to be a leader.)  And so I rephrased that last request and then continued my charade of trying to cover all the bases as if God might forget His duties over my grandson that day. And, of course, ended with, "Bless Mommy and Daddy."

Now it was his turn. "Jesus, thank you for letting G-Nan take me to school. Thank you for all the cars. Thank you for the traffic light. For red that means stop. Green that means go. Amen." 

Wow. Talk about an in-the-moment-kind of prayer!

Later that evening, I joined his mommy and daddy in his room for bedtime stories. What a treat it is to sit in my great-grandmother's rocker -- yes, Jude's great, great, great grandmother's chair -- and read to him stories of the heroes of the faith. As we bowed to pray, Jude got down and lay on the floor. His daddy prayed that God would send ministering angels to watch over him and to remove any drama of the day. His mommy prayed. And I prayed. And then Jude prayed. "Jesus, thank you for letting me play footsies with my daddy." As I opened my eyes, you got it, his foot was stuck up in the air and he was playing footsies with his daddy. 

How is it that a child can so know the art of prayer? Of just being present to the moment and thanking God for it. At what age do we forget that the present moment is just that -- a gift -- and something for which to thank the Giver? When do we become consumed with the "out there" and forget living "Now,' where the kingdom of God exists? 

Somewhere between 4 and 56, I know for sure.

Children. Yes. To such belong the Kingdom of God.

Just an ordinary moment...

A Palm Sunday Reenactment

I so wish I had taken a picture of him. There he stood on the 2nd step surrounded by a host of other little worshipers waving their arms while singing songs to the top of their tiny lungs. The smaller children had processed in to "Hosanna, Loud Hosanna," waving high their palm branches, probably totally unaware of exactly what they were reenacting. They had lined up neatly on the steps leading up to the platform, smallest to tallest -- and may I just say, every one of them was cute as a button.

Even the little boy who stood in the center.

When I say "stood," I mean exactly that. While the little fellow to his right kept hitting him in his face with his theatrical waves and the little girl on his right did the same, he didn't flinch a muscle except to bat his eyes to keep them from being poked out by the drama going on all around him. I was mesmerized by him, and couldn't help but lean over to one of the children's directors and ask, "Who is that little boy?" She whispered his name to me and said, "We hardly got him to walk down the aisle; much less sing." Bless his heart, those big brown eyes just stared straight ahead.

I've always deemed myself a church girl and with that comes loving to celebrate certain days on the church calendar. One such day being Palm Sunday -- the one we celebrate today. But as a church musician, and since most of us don't gather again until Easter morning, I often find myself in a quandary as to what to play on this particular Sunday. Do I stick with the celebratory "Hosanna!" and "Glory, Laud and Honor!" or do I try to incorporate the darker pieces of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday? This morning I chose the latter and used "Go to Dark Gethsemane" for special music in the middle of the service.

I've thought a lot today about that little boy standing front and center. So stoic. So free of emotion or song. And I've wondered: did he get it? Could a child that young understand what was happening? Could he himself have been reenacting the role of Jesus? That One who entered on the back of a donkey arrayed with fishermen's coats because there was no royal apparel? That One of whom the crowd sang, "Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!" as they waved palm branches? That One whose entourage consisted of street people, mentally ill men, questionable women, and inept disciples? Could it be that He alone knew what kind of parade He was in? A parade that was leading Him straight to the cross. And to His death.

Maybe the 2 selections of music were nothing short of appropriate after all. Hosanna and Gethsemane. And maybe, just maybe, that little tyke standing front and center was the only one who really got it. And if not? Well, he certainly played his part well.

Just an ordinary moment...