When you do something at the Ronald McDonald house, you help those people there that are away from their homes with sick children, but in reality many groups help. Those families, are grateful, but more than likely will not remember your face. However, for the people that do the helping, they remember. They are changed. They are better for it.

About four months ago we were blessed to hear of a family who was bringing their three year old daughter Kate from Alabama to St. Jude's Hospital here in Memphis. I say blessed because even though we hated the reason they had to come into our midst, we felt uplifted and encouraged by their strength, dedication to the Lord and their prescence at services despite the chaos that had entered their family by the disease of Childhood Lukemia. We are on the outside, but want desperately to help. What can help? We pray, and we pray hard. But sometimes putting your hands to work is good for a heart that is hurting for a new found brother and sister in Christ. So first we gathered supplies that the RMH says they need all the time and before long my children, my good friend and her children were treking to the house with a load of everything from pudding snacks to laundry detergent to shower curtain liners. At that time we got to see Kate's family and finally meet Kate. Kate had not been able to attend services because of the treatment she was undergoing. I got quite emotional when Emma and her stood facing each other both excited that they had the same gym shoes. Jenna, her little sis, was busy showing us all the cool toys that the RMH had and the quite stocked playroom that she liked to enjoy.

After returning home, I talked with the children about good deeds and how we helped people that were dealing with their sick babies. We talked about Kate and emma had many questions. One of the things she said was that Kate did not look sick. I told her that her sickness was not one you could see from the outside and that eventually Kate would loose all her pretty blond hair. That did it. I had over explained. The hair loss was striking to my four year old baby. So for weeks she asked if the little girl had lost her hair yet.

I was rejoicing as just before a group of us served a dinner at RMH Kate and her family got to go home. Her cancer was in remission and they needed only to come for every other week maintenance. We were thrilled as a group that they would not be at the dinner that we volunteered to prepare for THEM and the other residents of the house.

But.....as I served spaghetti and salad and bread there came another little boy who stole my heart. Five year old Dakota with a ten gallon cowboy hat made his way into the kitchen. He was a typical five year old. Constantly moving, couldn't sit still, and chatty. I asked him about his hat. The only thing that hinted at this little guy's illness was the surgical mask he was wearing. He got a heaping plate of spaghetti (no veggies :)) and sat down in the dining room. His mama sitting across from him is what got to me. She watched him eat, not eating herself and I could just tell the weight of the world was on her shoulders. She observed everyone of his little bites. I finally saw his whole little face as cowboys do not eat with their hats on and a surgical mask is impossible to stuff pasta through. But I was able to pray for Dakota and his mommy. And will you too? Please say a prayer for Kate tonight and Dakota. They are just little kids who are having to try to stay that way even when dealing with some serious stuff.

I left the RMH having been helped measures more than I helped them.

Sometimes situations hit us and we feel beat down. Many of us who profess Christianity feel beat down by our government to the point where we feel persecuted and scared to let our light shine. I have sang this song since I was a little girl. I have always liked it because I think it describes a relationship with Jesus a child can understand. Jesus is talking to the person in this song almost in a fatherly or grandfatherly sort of way. So while I could not get concepts of being washed clean in blood as a child (can not begin to tell you the horror images that brings to an overly imaginative child), I could very much understand this song. I thought about posting a you tube video or an mp3 file but sometimes that imprints upon you the artists emotions, but when you read it like poetry you can feel your own emotions and it can hit you in the parts that it needs to. So if you are traveling down a road today and the burden is making you weary, I hope this conversation with Jesus may cheer you on your way.


Follow Me

I traveled on a lonely road and no one seemed to care.
The burden on my weary back had bowed me to despair;
I oft complained to Jesus how folks were treating me,
And then I heard Him say so tenderly,
"My feet were also weary, upon the Calvary road;
The cross became so heavy, I fell beneath the load,
Be faithful weary pilgrim the morning I can see,
Just lift your cross and follow close to me."

"I work so hard for Jesus" I often boast and say
"I've sacrificed a lot of things to walk the narrow way,
I gave up fame and fortune, I'm worth a lot to Thee"
And then I hear Him gently say to me,
"I left the throne of glory and counted it but loss,
My hands were nailed in anger upon a cruel cross,
But now we'll make the journey with your hand safe in mine,
So lift your cross and follow close to me.

Oh Jesus if I die upon a foreign field someday,
'Twould be no more than love demands, no less could I repay,
"No greater love hath mortal man than for a friend to die"
These are the words He gently spoke to me,
"If just a cup of water I place within your hand
Then just a cup of water is all that I demand.
But if by death to living they can Thy glory see,
I'll take my cross and follow close to Thee.

I noticed a bit earlier in the spring a pair of Robins coming to the same spot in a tree and sure enough within a week there was a nicely constructed nest. In younger years, I took birds for granted and truth be told, took no notice or interest in them. However, as I have grown I am now that person that "bird watches." So when this little family to be came to the neighborhood I was really thrilled.

I am home most of the day. Even just this afternoon a couple of police crusiers came into our little cove area and were just making sure a garage door of an out of town neighbor was not something more suspicious. That cruiser barely twisted into the cove before I was out with my children hovering and making sure there was no situation which I would need to remove or protect them from. The incident very much turned out to be just the neighbor not getting his garage door down before he took off out of the cove, but after the cruisers left I took out a bag of trash and went to see if anyone was "home" in the nest. Sure enough, there was mama bird. She eyed me suspiciously as I watched her carry on with her God given instincts. As I said, "well hello mama bird!" and left I realized that God really did design a wonderful system of family and child raising. Now I realize that I am not a bird and that the robin is not a human, but we come from the same creator who breathed life into both us and through both of us He is glorified.....just doing what we know to do.....mama hens protecting our chicks.

Nest well mama bird, and I will do the same.

Over the past year or so, I have found myself mourning over the loss of activity and interaction with pleonast. I used to glean so much encouragement and loved the daily interaction that came with mostly like minded individuals from the "four corners". But even as I mourn the loss, I feel the blessing that comes with a quiet place to come. Facebook, pintrest, and other media provide much interaction and I enjoy keeping up with people that I otherwise would not but it is sometimes like being in a very loud room where people are all shouting at the same time, all trying to be heard. They share information, pictures, and political statements and it reminds me of a very busy coffee shop where 500 people I have ran across in life come and chat.

All well and good except that my mind never quiets. I have alot of my own chatter running in there and when I add facebook chatter there can be smoke coming out of my ears. I find that my days highly revolve around teachable moments. Little connections with my children, that I enjoy and laugh at. I often feel the urge to run and share with all of the world wide web, how cute the thing my daughter said was or how sweet the tender heart of my young man is, but when it comes down to it, God gave those for me to enjoy, not the world. Don't get me wrong, as a mother I still have to share how adorable my children are, but those connections are precious, not always to be shared and quite frankly, not always picturesque or pretty. Sometimes the moments are downright ugly showing the sinful, fallen parts of myself and my children.

I was talking to my mom this weekend, as both of us were under the weather on Sunday and found ourselves at home while the rest of the family was at services. I told her that mothers of her generation and prior seemed to have a confidence that mothers of mine did not. I told her my theory of the bombardment of information and how it has actually stripped a mother of her intuition that the Lord gave her and she agreed. She said mothers had a very difinite view of how children were to be raised. It was simple for the most part in theory and as long as a mother was consistent it turned out a well adjusted adult for the most part. She said that young women were turning to the "other" voices of faceless people in the media, such as books, internet and television to get their infomation on how to parent. We had lost touch of young women going to their mothers or elder woman to see how they did such and such. Lost touch? You mean even though I am in contact with over 500 people with the click of the mouse I had lost touch?

Does this mean I am done with facebook? Pleo? Pintrest? No! It means that I now more than ever need to keep touch. Quiet the voices in my head, ignore and shout at them to shut up if necessary and reflect quietly at where my info should come from. I recently completed a reading through the new testament. I was struck by how simply people connected and became intimate with Jesus. A simple authoritative, "Follow me!" was enough to make men leave their occupations. Who are my inner circle. How well and intimately do I keep "touch" with them.

To finish my rambling....I found the quietness of pleo comforting. Maybe this is the way it was always intended....a handful of people needing more meaningful connection. Maybe my heaven will be a quiet place that on earth my seem ackward. I would enjoy a room where I could quietly look on my most loved ones and just stare and smile at them. A quiet place....so needed in the jumble of the world swirling around us.

My son's bible lesson this week: Joshua chapter 7, Achan and his sin.

He took some of the spoils from Jericho and hid them and cost the Isrealites a loss to Ai and over 30 Isrealites were struck down.

Achan was dead wrong. Achan sinned. Even my eight year old self understood that. But I struggled to reconcile the God that allowed Achan, his sons, his daughters, his donkeys, his oxen and his tent to be stoned and killed (well not the tent, but the rest) with the God that offered His son to forgive me when I asked for and admitted my sin. What did his innocent son and daughter and his donkey do to deserve that?

The question again burned heavy in my mind as JT and I talked of this story. I still struggled. It is hard to believe sometimes that the God who talked to Joshua and the God I talk to in prayer everyday is the same. Two moods of the same diety.

But JT and I talked about how deadly and far reaching the consquences of our individual sins are. What do I do to others when I sin? How do I hurt them?

So my childhood confusion went to a deep terror for sin. I guess that is a good thing. JT still wants to know why the oxen and donkeys had to pay, and the tent....why a perfectly useful tent? Our God is also very thorough.