He received his first cell phone the other day. Yes, for graduating from the 5th grade and going into "middle school" his gift from his parents (my daughter) was his very own cell phone. Not a smartphone, just a regular one, but a phone nonetheless. And I was his first call. My phone rang, I didn't recognize the number--I said hello, and heard the sweetest words ever. Hi, grandma!
He was so excited. Guess what I got? My own phone! We talked for a few minutes and then hung up. The next day I received a text message from an unknown number. It read--hi grandma, what are you doing? And thus started our texting throughout the rest of the day, and then on to the next day. He also sent a text last night--good night gma. And first thing this morning--good morning gma. I have to tell you something--there is no better way to feel loved and thought about than a text from your grandson, I'll tell you that right now! Nothing can compare to the feeling of love that I feel for that boy as it floods through my heart.
He is my oldest grandchild, our very first and he turns 12 years old this October. It is hard for me to fathom this bit of information. You see, it seems as though my own children were just this age not too long ago. And now? Well, now I am conversing with my oldest grandchild via his own cell phone! It's amazing and awesome and wonderful and scary all at the same time. And that's just the point--time. It goes by so fast now, there is no stopping it. One month it's Christmas, then it's summer and then, we are planning for the holidays again. Yes, that quickly. So, it is my desire to enjoy every second of every day. Especially when it comes to taking, playing or visiting with my grandchildren. I want them to remember me. I want them to know me. Really know me. And I want to know them, I want to understand their likes and dislikes, I want to know their hearts, I want to spend that quality time with each one of them. And if I can't live in the same cities as they do, well, I'll leave them this blog, to one day read and remember when. I'll do my best to document the fun times. I'll take lots of pictures of us together, and I'll share as many stories as I can. I don't want them to ever wonder--what was she really like? They will read this and know. They'll know me.
I want to share a cute little conversation that took place yesterday between my grandson and me via texting--it went something like this.
Him--Hi grandma--how was grandpa's trip? Did he like it?
Me--Hi, yes he loved it, did your mom show you the pictures?
Him--Yes, she did, I loved looking at them, the kids were adorable.
Me--Yes, I thought so too. They reminded me of your cousin.
Him--Me too, she is so cute, just like them. :)
I could almost see him smiling through the phone, we were talking about his newest cousin, she was adopted from an African American family. She is part of our family now and I knew that he was probably wondering about his grandpa's trip to Congo and the resemblance between her and the children of Congo. I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable about it, so I thought I'd bring it up first.
It's important for me that my grandchildren learn to be accepting, kind, loving and inclusive. Their parents are doing an awesome job of teaching them. And it's a good thing too, as I am hoping and praying for even more grandchildren. You just never know--we have 6 so far, however, I do wonder how many more we might end up with. And we never know what their heritage might be. But, we know one thing for sure--the minute they become part of our family--they are ours forever.
For now, I will look forward to those little text messages, those short phone calls, and that sweet little voice. I will cherish each call and remember this time in my little grandson's life, for one day soon, he'll be too busy for grandma, but right now, well--we're phone buddies, and I love it.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Thursday, June 13, 2013
A Mother's Heart
I love being a mom, and even though my children are all grown up now with kids of their own--there are times when they are still my little ones. My three little chicks, whom I want to scoop up underneath my wings and protect. However, they are bigger, taller, and most likely smarter than me now. So, I let them be. I do not push my values off on them, I do not judge them nor try to manipulate them. At least I try. I try really hard. I have already had my mom time to mother them. Now, it's time for me to be quiet. To pray that they continue on with their lives, being productive citizens and kind hearted people, who serve their God with their whole hearts. And they are. I am blessed beyond measure.
I raised my children with my own value system based on Biblical concepts. My values, my way. I taught them as best I could. I believe my parenting style would be called authoritative. One who sets rules and boundaries, one who listens and loves and one who teaches thru example. I tried hard to stay the course and give my children a feeling of stability. And if you do this or that--these are the consequences of your actions--good or bad type of parenting style. I believe that I was firm but loving.
Being that we were a Christian family, we went to church regularly and were very involved in all types of ministries, along with group and family activities. I loved our little family. We were happy. We loved God and each other. We have lots of family memories and I will always cherish those times. I am now watching my children create those same types of memories with their own children.
However, and now the truth--I still have that mother's heart that sometimes, only sometimes wants to step in and say something. A word to encourage, or a word to mildly correct. Any yet. And yet, I stop myself. I had my turn and my turn is now over. I stay quiet, I pray and most of all I trust. Yes, that's it. I trust. I have complete and total trust in my God. He will take up where my mother's heart has left off. He will now take over the teaching, training, and the making of trials and tribulations that will come their way to gently (or sometimes not so gently) correct their course. And that is where my faith will have to kick in. I will walk by faith, that he will parent them for the rest of their lives, just as he has always done for me.
It's that act of walking out my faith when it comes to my children that might be the hardest for me. I'm not sure. It's something that I will have to think and pray about now. Do I fully trust him when it comes to them? I hope so. I really do.
So here I am with a mother's heart--waiting oh so patiently to see what my father's heart will do for my children. He has promised me that he will take care of them, protect them and love them more than I ever could. He will lead them and guide them, he will walk with them in all their ways, he will provide for them, heal them, comfort them--he will be the closest friend they'll ever know. And how do I know this? I've learned from experience--he has always done that in my life. And for that reason alone, I have and will continue to lay my love and concern for them at his feet. Right along with my mother's heart. I will bow before my God, lay my family at his feet and trust with my mother's heart. Yes, I will. I will do that. I promise.
I raised my children with my own value system based on Biblical concepts. My values, my way. I taught them as best I could. I believe my parenting style would be called authoritative. One who sets rules and boundaries, one who listens and loves and one who teaches thru example. I tried hard to stay the course and give my children a feeling of stability. And if you do this or that--these are the consequences of your actions--good or bad type of parenting style. I believe that I was firm but loving.
Being that we were a Christian family, we went to church regularly and were very involved in all types of ministries, along with group and family activities. I loved our little family. We were happy. We loved God and each other. We have lots of family memories and I will always cherish those times. I am now watching my children create those same types of memories with their own children.
However, and now the truth--I still have that mother's heart that sometimes, only sometimes wants to step in and say something. A word to encourage, or a word to mildly correct. Any yet. And yet, I stop myself. I had my turn and my turn is now over. I stay quiet, I pray and most of all I trust. Yes, that's it. I trust. I have complete and total trust in my God. He will take up where my mother's heart has left off. He will now take over the teaching, training, and the making of trials and tribulations that will come their way to gently (or sometimes not so gently) correct their course. And that is where my faith will have to kick in. I will walk by faith, that he will parent them for the rest of their lives, just as he has always done for me.
It's that act of walking out my faith when it comes to my children that might be the hardest for me. I'm not sure. It's something that I will have to think and pray about now. Do I fully trust him when it comes to them? I hope so. I really do.
So here I am with a mother's heart--waiting oh so patiently to see what my father's heart will do for my children. He has promised me that he will take care of them, protect them and love them more than I ever could. He will lead them and guide them, he will walk with them in all their ways, he will provide for them, heal them, comfort them--he will be the closest friend they'll ever know. And how do I know this? I've learned from experience--he has always done that in my life. And for that reason alone, I have and will continue to lay my love and concern for them at his feet. Right along with my mother's heart. I will bow before my God, lay my family at his feet and trust with my mother's heart. Yes, I will. I will do that. I promise.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Praying Them Home
I have been up for several hours now. Praying. Praying them home. Today the team that left almost 2 weeks ago returns home. I must admit something here--I've prayed a lot these last 2 weeks. I've prayed to the point of almost being no good for anything else. Yes, it's true, I've gone through the motions of everyday life--so to speak. Get up, get ready, pray. Repeat. In-between I've met with friends, gone to lunch, had coffee, done a little shopping, gone on walks and even out to dinner. Yet after each outing, I've come home and once again, I have prayed. Sometimes during the night I would wake and pray some more. For the team, and for my husband. Going through the motions of life, but really just wanting to pray for their safety--our team.
Throughout the past 2 weeks, my husband has been great about calling and sending me text messages almost every day. So yes, I've known all along just what their needs have been. I've done as I was asked though and kept all that pertinent information to myself. I've been good. However, in saying that, I didn't feel too good about keeping quiet. I wanted to shout out to everyone--are you praying? Really praying? Because they need you! They need you now!
They needed prayer when they got their first flat tire, and again as they drove through one city, with police banging on the doors of their vans with billy clubs--they needed prayer. They needed prayer when one got so sick that he needed IV's--yes, they needed prayer. And the day they visited the hospital--well, that day, they really needed prayer--for what they saw, for what they heard and for how they felt. They needed prayer.
it is very interesting to me how for this past 2 months I've been facilitating a small group where we went through the book Love To Pray. We've learned about prayer, we've prayed together, and we've seen the way God answers prayer. God's timing is amazing! Because the last 2 weeks we've had something really important to pray about. Our Congo team. They needed us. However, other things were also happening during the last couple of months--one person's mother passed away, another went through cancer treatment, another is preparing for a missions trip to Honduras, another is grieving for the salvation of their child, and another needed prayer while caring for their elderly parents. Yes, we all had needs, we all needed God to meet us just where we were. And He did. He met us as we prayed. He showed us things we never imagined. Because we prayed. We learned we listened, we prayed.
So now we are praying them home. We pray for their safety on their last leg in the air--from Brussels to Chicago, we are praying. They will also need us when they get home--to process, to share, to try their hardest to get across to us, who've stayed home--just what it was really like in Africa.
I am praying. Praying them home. And you know what? I am praying them back to Africa. Back to minister to a people whom I am sure, they've have grown to love.
Throughout the past 2 weeks, my husband has been great about calling and sending me text messages almost every day. So yes, I've known all along just what their needs have been. I've done as I was asked though and kept all that pertinent information to myself. I've been good. However, in saying that, I didn't feel too good about keeping quiet. I wanted to shout out to everyone--are you praying? Really praying? Because they need you! They need you now!
They needed prayer when they got their first flat tire, and again as they drove through one city, with police banging on the doors of their vans with billy clubs--they needed prayer. They needed prayer when one got so sick that he needed IV's--yes, they needed prayer. And the day they visited the hospital--well, that day, they really needed prayer--for what they saw, for what they heard and for how they felt. They needed prayer.
it is very interesting to me how for this past 2 months I've been facilitating a small group where we went through the book Love To Pray. We've learned about prayer, we've prayed together, and we've seen the way God answers prayer. God's timing is amazing! Because the last 2 weeks we've had something really important to pray about. Our Congo team. They needed us. However, other things were also happening during the last couple of months--one person's mother passed away, another went through cancer treatment, another is preparing for a missions trip to Honduras, another is grieving for the salvation of their child, and another needed prayer while caring for their elderly parents. Yes, we all had needs, we all needed God to meet us just where we were. And He did. He met us as we prayed. He showed us things we never imagined. Because we prayed. We learned we listened, we prayed.
So now we are praying them home. We pray for their safety on their last leg in the air--from Brussels to Chicago, we are praying. They will also need us when they get home--to process, to share, to try their hardest to get across to us, who've stayed home--just what it was really like in Africa.
I am praying. Praying them home. And you know what? I am praying them back to Africa. Back to minister to a people whom I am sure, they've have grown to love.
Monday, June 3, 2013
Reverend
Reverend--that's what they called him. When he preached. In the Congo. To 2,321 people--Africans. From all over, they came. It was a quarterly church meeting, where 4 times per year they gather to worship together. 20 local congregations, 3 hours long. Singing, praising, worshiping.
But that's not the real story. The real story happened at the same time, on the same day, here and abroad. A miracle. I call it that because that is what it was. It was something that only God could do. When I wrote my last blog, the one about my husband and his "come to Jesus" meeting, well, little did I know that God was also speaking to my husband about sharing that same exact story to the congregations in the Congo. When he was able to make contact with me later that same day, he told me how God had been dealing with him about sharing his "testimony". He had been unsure, and when I asked him if he had read my blog from that morning, he said no. I was stunned. He hadn't yet read it. That meant, in my mind anyway, that he should read it right away, and then pray about just what it was that God wanted him the talk about that following Sunday.
He told me later that as he read my blog, he cried. He knew then that he needed to try to somehow share "his story" with the African people. I told him I'd be praying, and pray I did. For hours and hours, I prayed. For God to give him boldness and strength, and for him to have wisdom and discernment.
I really do not think he was prepared for the turnout. Over 2,000 people showed up. His was to be the only sermon, he was the only speaker, the only reverend, for that is how they introduced him. Reverend. It embarrassed him, but he'll get over it.
He spoke for 40 minutes, thankfully there was a translator. He said he could feel our prayers. Those of his friends and family. The local pastors later told him that he had spoken on key subjects that they needed to hear. He was told that over 20 pastors were there and they will now go home and retell his story and preach on the subjects for weeks to come. His story. The one I thought he had forgotten about. Until God reminded us--him and me at the same exact time--of that night so long ago.
Isn't God amazing? If anyone had told us that night, sitting in that little church in California that one day my husband would be speaking to over 2, 000 people in Africa--well, I'm sure we would have thought they were nuts. But, God had a plan. He always has a plan. It's just up to us to obey, to walk in His ways, to listen, to do and to go. Go where He tells us to go.
My husband will have so many stories to share when he gets home. One more week. I miss him terribly, but you know what? I would not change one bit of what God is doing in his life (or mine) for anything. No, I would not change one thing.
The team left for Karawa today. In fact, he just called from there. He was so happy to find that they had installed a 1st generation cell tower. No email available, but he could call me. I was so happy just to hear his voice. The team toured a hospital this morning, and when he tried to tell me about their visit, his voice broke. He just said, please pray, pray for these people, this breaks my heart. So, I will pray--for the people of Africa, for the team, and mostly I will pray for my husband, for he will never be the same.
I can't wait for him to share all that God is doing, he has so many things to say, so much has happened, good things. God things. Things that only God can do.
But that's not the real story. The real story happened at the same time, on the same day, here and abroad. A miracle. I call it that because that is what it was. It was something that only God could do. When I wrote my last blog, the one about my husband and his "come to Jesus" meeting, well, little did I know that God was also speaking to my husband about sharing that same exact story to the congregations in the Congo. When he was able to make contact with me later that same day, he told me how God had been dealing with him about sharing his "testimony". He had been unsure, and when I asked him if he had read my blog from that morning, he said no. I was stunned. He hadn't yet read it. That meant, in my mind anyway, that he should read it right away, and then pray about just what it was that God wanted him the talk about that following Sunday.
He told me later that as he read my blog, he cried. He knew then that he needed to try to somehow share "his story" with the African people. I told him I'd be praying, and pray I did. For hours and hours, I prayed. For God to give him boldness and strength, and for him to have wisdom and discernment.
I really do not think he was prepared for the turnout. Over 2,000 people showed up. His was to be the only sermon, he was the only speaker, the only reverend, for that is how they introduced him. Reverend. It embarrassed him, but he'll get over it.
He spoke for 40 minutes, thankfully there was a translator. He said he could feel our prayers. Those of his friends and family. The local pastors later told him that he had spoken on key subjects that they needed to hear. He was told that over 20 pastors were there and they will now go home and retell his story and preach on the subjects for weeks to come. His story. The one I thought he had forgotten about. Until God reminded us--him and me at the same exact time--of that night so long ago.
Isn't God amazing? If anyone had told us that night, sitting in that little church in California that one day my husband would be speaking to over 2, 000 people in Africa--well, I'm sure we would have thought they were nuts. But, God had a plan. He always has a plan. It's just up to us to obey, to walk in His ways, to listen, to do and to go. Go where He tells us to go.
My husband will have so many stories to share when he gets home. One more week. I miss him terribly, but you know what? I would not change one bit of what God is doing in his life (or mine) for anything. No, I would not change one thing.
The team left for Karawa today. In fact, he just called from there. He was so happy to find that they had installed a 1st generation cell tower. No email available, but he could call me. I was so happy just to hear his voice. The team toured a hospital this morning, and when he tried to tell me about their visit, his voice broke. He just said, please pray, pray for these people, this breaks my heart. So, I will pray--for the people of Africa, for the team, and mostly I will pray for my husband, for he will never be the same.
I can't wait for him to share all that God is doing, he has so many things to say, so much has happened, good things. God things. Things that only God can do.
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