Archive for September, 2011

29 Sep

Krispy Kreme & A Prayer

Posted by Sherry in Not Food.

I love my coffee in the mornings.
It’s a special treat when I get to have someone else’s coffee in the morning, like today.
Somehow I found a few minutes before work, and a couple of dollars, that allowed for a luxurious trip to the drive-thru at Krispy Kreme today.
Joy!
I had sweet anticipation of sitting at my desk with a warm cup of smooth deliciousness.
As I turned into the KK, a big white Yukon cut in front of me.
Blatantly!
Without excuse or pardon, without care, just turned sharp and cut in the line ahead of me.
I was so surprised – not by the act – but by the calm I had in reaction.

“Lord!  Where did that come from?”

Of course, I knew where it came from, and I thanked him and was so delighted over the person I was versus the person I knew I would have been before I had him.

As I waited patiently, I noticed the woman driving the Yukon in front of me.
She was obviously not patient.
She was not saddened, or distraught.
She instead looked angry, bitter.
Those little tale-tell wrinkles on the forehead and around the mouth told on her displeasure.
She had to repeat her order through the speaker.
She repeated her words with disgust that you could almost see dripping out of the corners of her mouth.

I immediately began to pray, “Lord, I do not know what is going on with her.  But I lift her up to you.”

As she left the ordering board & speaker, I could hear her loud music thumping, and see her flicking cigarette ashes out the window.
Then, I heard her.  She wasn’t singing.  Instead, she was stating profanities.
Profanities at “not being able to deal with this stuff (I changed the words a little), I have to get to work!”
Profanities toward the server.
Profanities toward the person she didn’t know ahead of her who was apparently the wrong size for her liking and the wrong speed.
When she got to the window to receive her order, she forcefully handed the money over and did not wait for change before taking off.

I was just heartbroken.  I was heartbroken for the server who had to face this.  I was heartbroken for the car ahead of her, who had to see that impatient white bumper in her rear view mirror.  And I was heartbroken for the woman driving the Yukon.  “Lord, she doesn’t even know….” was all my head kept saying.

As I pulled up to the window to get my coffee, I told the server how sorry I was.  But I had an opportunity to share with the server how at first I was wishing I was ahead of the Yukon, so I could have paid for her order.  But if I was, I probably 1) wouldn’t have known this woman was so unhappy and 2) wouldn’t have made a difference in doing so.  God put me right where I needed to be.  My joy-filled moment of anticipating the treat of someone else’s coffee was placed exactly where it needed to be this morning.  I’m going to continue to pray for this woman today.  She doesn’t need to know I’m doing that, for it to impact her life.  I’m going to pray for the Holy Spirit to tug at her, to be a present thirst.  That extra extra sugar she ordered in her coffee isn’t going to satisfy her permanently.  I’m going to pray that she come to know joy, love.  And I’m going to continue to praise God for rescuing me from the driver’s seat of that Yukon, because I’m positive I’ve been there.  Maybe that’s why my heart breaks for this woman so.

Please join me in prayer over those who just don’t know, or don’t have the Joy present first and foremost in their lives.

27 Sep

Washing Machine Noise

Posted by Sherry in Not Food.

Mornings are crazy during the week.
Capital C  crazy.
Number one – I never get up in time, which leads to
Number two – The kids never get up in time
to have a peaceful morning of dressings, teeth-brushing, breakfasts, etc.
Never!
Despite all good intentions, the driveway doesn’t usually bid us farewell until we have a mere 11 minutes to get to the first school across town.  Whew!

Yesterday I was feeling brave, and decided to do a little laundry duty before heading out the door.
As I worked folding clothes straight from the dryer, over the hum, rattle and roll of the working washing machine, in my good-intentioned efforts to multitask, I asked my 9-year-old son a question.  He was in the kitchen scarfing down some cold cereal with milk, and I was at the other end of the house.  I did not go to him to ask, I just shouted over the noise, “Do you have your shoes on?”

That’s when, ever so gently, my Savior said to me, “Why do you ask questions when you have no intentions of listening for the answer?”

Whoa!  Did I do that, Jesus?  Did I ask a question that I really didn’t care to hear the answer to?  In my rush to get things done, I had asked simply for the purpose of pointing out something that my son needed to have done before we walked out the door.  But you know what?  I don’t know what his answer was.  It could have been yes, to which much praise should have been responded.  It could have been no, to which more encouragement could have been given.  Instead, I asked a question and didn’t follow-up or show care.  How many times do I do that, Lord, in my everyday?  I always say, “How are you?” to those I cross paths with.  How often do I really listen to the response?  How often do people I ask even give me a response?  Lord, how often do I do that to you?

This got me to thinking about all the washing machine noises that go on every day, all day long, that keep me from following through with good-intentioned things.  When I pick the kids up from school, and I ask, “How was your day?”, do they know I sincerely want to know how their day was…..or do they think I’m just going through the motions?  When I tell a friend I’ve been thinking about them and ask them how I can pray for them, do they take me seriously?  Do they see genuine concern in my question?  And most importantly, does God know I value His response to my questions?

Today I’m praying for the washing machine noises to be less so that I may be a better listener.  I don’t want to be distracted and miss the answers my kids give me, or my co-workers, or my friends from church…..I don’t want to miss anything that my Savior may be telling me.  Praise God I heard his voice above that washing machine yesterday!

21 Sep

Day 19

Posted by Sherry in Not Food. Tagged: , , , .

It has been 19 days since my oldest son left the country for a foreign land.

This didn’t “sneak up” on me.
He has been working toward this since he was 17 years old,
so I’ve had two years to prepare for where he is now….where I am.

He is well, and has no doubt he is doing what he was created for.
I have no doubt about that, either.
I’ve experienced such joy in hearing of his happiness…
in seeing his spiritual gift at work…
in knowing of the peace he has.

We have been able to speak very little since he’s been gone.
Where he is, there’s not a reliable internet connection.
I’ve not been able to receive emails from him.
We have, however, exchanged short instant message statements.
Little encouragements.

Tonight, he typed these words to me in a Skype message:

“I miss you ma.”

I replied right away with encouraging responses – staying upbeat, making sure the inflection in my type wouldn’t tell on the tears that were now streaming down my face.  Oh, how I miss him, too.

Then he said, “Tell me about your day.”

So I did.  I told him everything I could think of.  I didn’t wait for responses between statements.  I felt his need to connect with the everyday here at home, so I continued:

“Books A Million is closed.”
“Your brother was invited to join the Beta Club. He’s very excited!”
“Your other brother is doing well in school, too.”
“Your iguana misses you.”
“Richie across the street says to tell you he’s proud of you.”
“We spent Friday and Saturday nights with friends from church.”
“The family reunion is next weekend.”
“The kitten has learned to use the cat door.”
“Kevin is still working on the Jeep.”
“Today Kev had lunch with J Mc and Mike.”
“We went to support Rick last Friday, as he played at the coffee shop.”

For about 15 minutes, I shared various details with him, until he finally replied, “I think I’m going to hit the sack now.  I love you.”

When he was a baby, he could only get to sleep with rhythmic patting on his back.  I’m not talking some soft, gentle patting – he wanted to know you were there as he drifted off to sleep, and only a firm hand would do the trick.  And if you stopped just short of his dozing off, he’d let you know you needed to pat him on the back a little longer.  Tonight, my baby needed to know I was here.  I would type messages to him (pat him on the back) as long as he needed me to.
On this 19th day, I needed the confirmation just as much as my son did.

Praising God for this release and the closeness that was provided between a mother and her son, even though they are worlds apart right now. 

Our third day together.

18 Sep

The Blessing of A Kitten Named Turkey

Posted by Sherry in Not Food. Tagged: , , , , , , , , .

Meet Turkey.  She is the latest addition to our family.  How did we get her?  Turkey actually found us.  She was screaming (meowing) early one morning for us to let her in, so we did.  We were amazed right away by the mighty big voice she had for being such a tiny kitten.  It was obvious, upon first glance, that she was not someone’s pet.  Dirty, boney, flea-covered, and appearing to be missing an eye at first, we knew we couldn’t turn her back out onto the street.  So here we are, about 2 1/2 weeks later, and this tiny kitten has us smitten with her!

The Day She Found Us

Like any other healthy kitten, Turkey is rambunctious and busy every single second she is awake, but she is still a baby, so she has several catnaps a day and knows when it is bedtime for the rest of us.  Without being taught or encouraged, she’s learned to jump onto the foot of our bed as we’re turning in for the night. It’s a neat routine.  We get into bed.  Moments later, we can feel the tiny bounce of her massive 1.5 pound body, and she immediately turns on her purr.  When we call to her (“Turkey, good little Turkey, sweet kitty Turkey….”), she turns her purr up even louder.  And if we rub her beneath her chin, she purrs even louder still!  It’s funny, because when she’s running around the house all day, you won’t hear a purr out of her at all.  But at bedtime, in her contentment and seemingly gratitude, she offers us the warmth of her happiness through a purr. She appears to offer us “the purr” as a means of thanksgiving for taking her in.  For loving her. 

This past Tuesday, like most days as I’m driving to work, I was reflecting on the morning devotion and thinking about the scripture it was based upon.  Before I knew it, I was singing praises to our Saviour – belting it out! – unscripted words on paper, but definitely scripted in my heart.  Don’t you just love that when it happens?!  I was singing praises of thanks for the many, many blessings God has shown me, and for those that I knew He has in store for me yet to come.  Hallelujah, He knows my past, present and future!  As I was singing, I became aware of this warmth, building inside – almost as if some nurtured energy was about to unfold – like a daisy opening it’s petals beneath he morning’s early dew.  And as I continued to sing praises, that warmth became greater, and greater, until I was filled with such enormous joy!  Immediately, I began to think of Turkey, our newest feline family member, and an understanding of this joy came to me in the very simple, tangible definition of this tiny beast. Just as Turkey lands on the foot our our bed, offering her warm little purr that grows a little louder with some praiseful cooing, and then even louder with the anticipation of an outstretched hand coming toward her……..so was the warmth, the radiation of the Holy Spirit within me.  The more I praised, the more I poured my heart out in Thanksgiving, the more I could feel the love and satisfaction of my Father.  Thank you, thank you, sweet Lord for giving me a glimpse of  the happiness you must feel when we glorify you and praise your name, in terms that I can understand.  Thank you for showing me this…..yet another blessing!

So maybe not everyone would understand it if I compared the warmth of the Holy Spirit to the instinctive purr of a cat…..but that’s okay.  Our wonderful Saviour has showed me in a way he knows I can understand.  He will reveal things to you, too, in ways you can understand them best. Our Father knows each of us, loves each of us, and is ready to reveal things to you in your language – way you can understand.  All you have to do is believe with all your heart, and listen for his gentle way.    John 14:  16-17

2 Weeks After Finding Us

A blessing in the making:  The night Turkey found us, we were in the middle of singing praises to our Saviour, literally.  We were at a recording studio with our oldest son as he was working on the final tracks for a song titled “Magnify”.  It was when taking a donut break at 2:00am that Turkey came-a-callin’.  Praise God for all the blessings, big and small, known and yet to come!

Be magnified
As we sing your praise and lift your name
Up higher than the mountaintops you made

                                  Magnify
                                 (c) 2011 – D. Johnston 

12 Sep

My Basket

Posted by Sherry in Not Food. Tagged: , , , , , , .

It’s a big one.
Made out of some type of weave material native to the plantation area in the south.
And it’s elastic, of this I am sure, because it can stretch to hold a lot of junk.

It used to be really heavy when I first got it.  Sometimes, debilitatingly so.
Often times, it would slow my pace, or be so cumbersome, that it distracted me from other things.
And it used to be very important to me, too.
I would never leave home without it.
For that matter, I would never be home without it, either.
It used to hold a pretty prominent position, always close by my side, or in my lap.

I know this basket well – would recognize it anywhere.
Because it’s familiar, I sometimes feel comfort at the sheer recognition of it.
It’s no more than the comfort of habit, though, and it is only temporary.
I have spent a majority of my life toting it around.
It has been with me through so many turns.
For a long while, it seemed to be my only constant.
Through high school, college, broken relationships.
Through health issues.
Through the birth of three children, parenting.
Through all sorts of highs and lows, I’ve held onto it.

Now, it’s not nearly as heavy, although it hasn’t changed in shape or size.
I just don’t put that much junk in it anymore.
It doesn’t really slow my pace anymore, or distract me too often.
Sometimes, I don’t even notice it.
At home, I forget sometimes that I still have it.
When I leave, I forget sometimes to take it with me.

This is what happens when I let God have what’s inside the basket.
He takes that burden from me.
He eliminates the distraction of it’s contents.
He carries anything that is too much for me to handle.
He replaces it with peace, comfort and hope.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”   Philippians 4:6-7.

My basket is much less important to me than it used to be 20 years ago.
To be honest, it’s much less important to me than it was a year ago!
As my relationship with Christ grows stronger, my dependency on my basket diminishes.
Moving my focus toward faith, takes it away from things that are out of my control.

One of my favorite hymns is “Turn  Your Eyes Upon Jesus”.
Turn your eyes upon Jesus.
Look full in his wonderful face.
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim.
In the light of his glory and grace.

I’m so thankful for the understanding and comfort that only my Savior can provide.
And thankful that he so willingly and lovingly takes my worries from me & empties my basket.

1 Peter 5:7