Rocking

Dusting and writing can wait 'til tomorrow,
For babies grow up -- we've learned to our sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; blogs, go to sleep,
I'm rocking my baby 'cause babies don't keep.

Just an ordinary moment... (NOT!)

The Gun Show

Very rarely do I go somewhere that when I walk through the door I'm asked by an officer of the law wearing a side arm, "Do you have a weapon on you?" But that's where I found myself this morning. Normally, it is I who leads the pack when it comes to a shopping trip, but today I was trailing behind my husband at Eastman's Gun and Knife Show at the Ag Center. Somehow I've always managed to stay clear of this yearly event, but not this time. (Even now I'm sporting a reentry stamp on the back of my left hand of a pistol with an "explosion" coming out the end of it.) I somewhat jokingly asked the attendant if I had to pay the $8 if I promised not to look at any merchandise, but he told me that there was a lady in the back corner selling earrings, so he knew he had me. And indeed she was: earrings made out of recycled shotgun shells. She said it was a vision from the Lord she had received in church. Who would have thought?

It probably comes as no surprise that I was outnumbered. For every one female, there were at least 50 males. Men: all sizes, all shapes, all ages. I'd venture to say there was more testosterone in that one room than all the Bass Pro Shops and Home Depots this side of the Mississippi combined. Yep, it's what a man does. It's what he likes to do. And maybe, just maybe, it's what he was created to do. Protect and provide. And whereas I'm pretty decent when it comes to hitting a bull's eye, quite frankly, I prefer the difference in roles.

As I made my way up and down the aisles, lagging just behind my husband, my mind was drawn to a particular passage of the book, "Heaven is for Real," where little Colton tells of being given a glimpse of the battle of Armageddon during his short stay on "the other side. " Strangely enough, he says that the women and children stood back and watched while only the men fought. And while I'd never thought of such, somehow being in the setting in which I found myself, I could imagine it. At least it gave me some interesting food for thought.

So did my particular man leave the show having made any purchases? No. He never does-- though I'm sure he would have liked to have done so. But maybe coming away with a new sense of personal awareness of who he was created to be was all he was looking for anyway.

Just an ordinary moment...

Different Perspectives -- Same Answer

One of the staples of Lent for me is John Piper's book The Passion of Jesus Christ. Previously, the book was entitled 50 Reasons Why Jesus Came to Die, and that is exactly what the book is about. (Mrs. Harrison, my high school English teacher would die that I just ended a sentence with a preposition, but it just didn't fit the correct way.) This book walks me through this season of reflection like none other as each day's reading begins, "Christ suffered and died..." and then offers 50 reasons why. Day 1's reason: To Absorb the Wrath of God. Day 19: To Give Eternal Life to All Who believe on Him. Day 22: To Bring Us to God. Day 41: To Secure Our Resurrection from the Dead. And thus each day offers another reason, with heavily supported Scripture. It is nothing short of rich reading. I love absorbing each day's "reason," thinking about it through the day and worshiping Christ for His absolute right to be worshiped.

This past weekend, I picked up yet another book to add to my collection: Heaven is for Real. I had heard about it via an email I had received the week prior that had an attachment of a news segment interviewing the author and its subject. The little boy's name is Colton Burpo, and he has been to heaven and back. It was a fascinating account and so when I saw the book, I picked it up. It probably took all of an hour and a half to read, but nothing has offered my mind such play about heaven since I read Randy Alcorn's book several years ago entitled just that: Heaven.

Colton's dad, Todd Burpo, along with Lynn Vincent, wrote this fascinating story after Colton suffered a severe case of appendicitis that left him quite literally at death's door. What is so absolutely warming about this story is the simple way Colton expresses incident after incident of his time in heaven. He tells of seeing his great-grandfather, who had died a quarter of century before Colton had even been born; of meeting a sister who had died in her mother's womb, again before Colton's birth; and even of sitting in Jesus' lap. While I always read such accounts with caution, I have no reason to disqualify any of what is written within these pages.

At one point in the book, Todd Burpo, a pastor himself, writes about a conversation he had with Colton and his older sister Cassie on a Good Friday. He simply asked the question, "Do you know what Good Friday is?" Colton said he didn't know, but his sister emphatically and excitedly answered, "That's the day Jesus died on the cross." Moving to the next question, he asked, "Do you know why Jesus died on the cross?" When Cassie couldn't come up with an answer, Colton nodded he knew. "Okay, why?" asked his father. "Well, Jesus told me he died on the cross so we could go see his Dad."

Here's how Todd Burpo relates the rest of the story. "In my mind's eye, I saw Jesus, with Colton on his lap, brushing past all the seminary degrees, knocking down theological treatises stacked high as skyscrapers, and boiling down fancy words like propitiation and soteriology to something a child could understand: 'I had to die on the cross so that people on earth could come see my Dad.' Colton's answer to my question was the simplest and sweetest declaration of the gospel I had ever heard. I thought again about the difference between grown-up and childlike faith."

And so, while each morning between now and Easter, I will continue to pick up Piper's book and read yet another reason Jesus came to die, and yes, even be blessed by it, the most profound reason has already been uttered -- by a 4 year old: "He died on the cross so we could go see His Dad."

Christ also suffered once for sins,
the righteous for the unrighteous, that He might bring us to God.
1 Peter 3:18

Hear the invitation ... and come.

Just an ordinary moment...

"The gospel of Christ is the good news that at the cost of His Son's life, God has done everything necessary to enthrall us with what will make us eternally and ever-increasingly happy, namely, Himself."
--John Piper

Dairy Queen Ministry

For years, my husband and I have had a "Dairy Queen Ministry." What this means is that we want a blizzard (for him) and a hot fudge sundae (for me) but we tack on "ministry" to justify our cravings. The owners of the establishment are Hindu, and after all, a relationship must be developed before sharing Christ, right? And maybe some advances are being made as our daughter text me one evening and said, "Mom, you know you go to DQ way too often when the owner recognizes and speaks to you in Wal-Mart!" It also has that "Cheers" feel in that when they see us walk in the door, they just go ahead and start putting the Butterfinger pieces in the ice cream cup.

And so last night it was only natural that after our Ash Wednesday service we head to the Dairy Queen. This was a tradition begun when we use to attend the service in Savannah. We would stop by Krispey Kreme Donuts for a "last meal" so to speak. It was always a little awkward walking in with ashes on one's forehead, but we were quick to learn we weren't the only ones getting that last sweet in. But since there's no KK close by, we've opted for DQ and it has worked just fine.

But after making the casual conversation with the owner and while waiting on our treats, my husband and I both noticed the man who had walked up to the counter and tried to order. There was definitely a problem with his speech as he couldn't seem to articulate what he wanted. He left without ordering. My husband and I took our seats in a booth, and moments later the man walked back in the door and straight to my husband. He handed him a $20 bill and said, "Will you order for me?" At this point, all eyes had turned in our direction. We were both still very aware something was wrong, but my husband stood up and said, "What is it you would like?" After numerous attempts to get it out, I was finally able to interpret "Crispy" and said, "Chicken?" He nodded, and so my husband went to the counter while I sat alone eating my sundae with the man sitting down in the booth next to ours. I have to admit, even though almost every table was full, I was still somewhat uncomfortable and eager for my husband to return. When he finally did, he gave the man back his change and told the fellow his food would be ready shortly and that he would get it for him when it was. So as we waited, I continued to eat my sundae, but the man seemed eager to apologize to my husband for the inconvenience, and telling him how sorry he was, he stuck out his hand to shake my husband's in gratitude.

Upon receiving his food, the man was able to convey that he wanted an ice cream. And so after some careful interpretation, my husband was able to discern "blizzard." Upon ordering and handing him that, I watched the most beautiful moment take place as my husband placed his right hand on the man's left shoulder, looked him square in the eyes, talked to him as a friend talks to a friend, and then asked, "Where are you staying? Would you like for me to help you get home?" to which the man nodded yes. I don't think I've ever witnessed the hands and feet of Jesus more than in that moment as my husband gave the man such dignity and worth.

By this point, there was no doubt the man was extremely intoxicated, but the depth of hurt in his eyes and the look of humiliation and sorrow on his face erased for both of us any condemnation. My husband locked arms with him and off they went: one steady, the other staggering. I quickly asked, "But where are you going?" And he said, "Wherever he takes me." I got in the car and followed behind until they reached the motel two doors down the road. My husband saw him safely to his room, instructed him not to leave for the rest of the night, and returned to where I was waiting in the vehicle. Both of our hearts were heavy as we pulled out of the parking lot.

Only an hour earlier had we sat in our sanctuary and, before receiving the imposition of ashes, heard the words spoken by the pastor about dying to oneself. About the cost of discipleship. About walking this journey with Christ with intention. About sacrificing that we might become more like Christ in His sacrifice. Lent. It's the preparing of the heart for Easter.

"Where are you going?" "Wherever he takes me." Yes. Dairy Queen ministry. Through my husband, it all began to make sense.

Just an ordinary moment...

A Heart Overflowing

Welcome to the World,

JUDE ROBERT McLENDON!
March 5, 2011
1:45 a.m.
6 lbs. 9 oz.


Our little Hoot

Mom and baby shortly after delivery.


A surreal moment for this mother: seeing her "baby" hold his.


Holding my grandson for the first time.


Getting acquainted with grandpa Geezer.


The new family. A cord of three.


3 hours of sleep and back to do it again.

It was difficult sharing -- but I did.

The proud grandmothers and love multiplied.

Indeed, our heart's overflow!

May He grant you according to your heart's desire,
and fulfill all your purpose.
Psalm 20:4

No ordinary moment....