TOUCH

The Poppa currently pastors an inner city church. It is not what we ever expected we would be doing. It's not the dream job of ministry. It certainly doesn't pay well. You won't find our name on the pages of any glossy "Happy Church" magazine. It's exhausting. It's unpredictable. It's messy. It's complicated.

And yet, it is one of the most beautiful places we have ever served.

The small white building sits right in the middle of a very needy neighborhood. Many transient people. Truly, poor people. Disadvantaged would be the PC term these days. Through a continual God-miracle, our church family offers a free meal every Sunday morning. There is no cover-charge or hidden costs. There is no expectation of attending services. Two years ago we hung a small 6x8 sign out front: "Free Breakfast, Every Sunday @ 11:30 AM."

The first week 15 people showed up.
This past Sunday we filled up 74 plates.

These folks have become our people. They have captured my heart in ways I did not know were possible. Awhile ago one of our "regulars" suddenly died. Every woman who works in the kitchen cried the Sunday we found out about his death.

Our people are smelly. Dirty. Sloppy, even.
Some of them reek of alcohol. Sometimes they stagger.
Occasionally, they can be hungover.
But they are OUR people.

I find I love them in spite of these situations. Perhaps even because of it.

God provided a way for us to operate a food pantry. Every Sunday we are able to give every person who comes to breakfast a bag of groceries. (My kids love to "work" the food pantry. Ms. Sherry, the amazing volunteer who coordinates everything allows them to be her helpers. I plan on writing more about my kids & this outreach more later.)Some Sundays I wash dishes.
Some Sundays I stand in the hallway & help direct traffic.
And when I do, I like to touch each person who walks by.
I pat them on the back or on the arm & tell them that I hope they have a good week. I assure them that we are glad they visited with us. I encourage them to come back next Sunday.

Our people aren't normally touched by society.
They just aren't.

Think about how great it feels when someone holds your hand or gives you a hug. Humans are made to be connected to other humans. Part of that connection is actual.physical.contact.
Skin on skin.

And maybe, just maybe it's a reminder that Jesus is touching them too. That He loves to touch the "untouchables."

Springtime Prayer

I look at out my kitchen window and see a hill that is vibrant green.
The mountains all around me are filled with fresh, bright, brand new leaves.
Recent rains have left a cleansing aroma in the air.
Fat robins feast on juicy worms buried within the warm earth.

And I am renewed.
My cup is overflowing with blessings.
Jesus, my husband, my children, my family, my friends.
I have a full, rich life.
The coldness of winter has been erased.

I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
The LORD watches over you—
the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.
The LORD will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;
the LORD will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.
PSALM 121Amen. and Amen.

Truth.

At his preschool, the boy recently learned an old song from my childhood.
He loves to sing it very loudly.
I love hearing him sing it.
It makes me smile.

Today, while in the shower, I decided I would sing it loudly too.
I kinda hope it made God smile.

The devil is a sly ole fox.
I'd like to take him & throw in him a box.
I'd lock the door & throw away the key,
For all the mean tricks he's played on me.

I'm glad I've got salvation.
I'm glad I've got salvation.
I'm glad I've got salvation.
By trusting in my Lord.

Measuring Stick.

Today I was not the greatest Mom.
I'm just being honest.
This strep infection has thrown me for a loop, plus the side effects from the antibiotics have kicked in and I'm about one or two notches above functioning.
Excuses aside, I had little patience with my kids the past 24 hours.

What is normally the adorable sound of pitter patter of little feet sounded like a troop of elephants storming through the house. And every time I pulled myself off the couch it was only to discover more messes and more piles of toys. The day seemed to stretch on endlessly until finally I slopped some cold cereal into bowls, added a side of toast & called it dinner.

FAIL.
So I sit here and reflect on my attitude and pray with every fiber of my being that today is not the day my kids use to describe me as a Mom. And I humbly bow my head, asking for God's forgiveness. If there is way to add up all the "good Mom days" and subtract all the "bad Mom days" -- perhaps in the end, I'll tip the scales in the right way.

I ponder this because I've discovered a hard truth over the years....we all tend to judge people based on one particular circumstance or event.

You know, the way you still whisper to your BFF about that guy in your circle of friends who at one time, 15 years ago, was totally strung out on crack. Forget about the years of clean, sober living he has under his belt. He can't seem to escape his past.

Or the gal in your church who sings beautifully in the choir, but in the back of your mind, she wears the label of a man-chaser. Maybe she has had many boyfriends and relationships throughout her life, but God has redeemed her and set her free.

We judge others without the benefit of grace.
But beg for grace when the spotlight is shining inside our lives.

"Forgive our sins, as we forgive everyone who has done wrong to us."
Luke 11:3

Anniversary

Today marks a solemn day for my entire family.
One that changed the landscape of my heart & faith forever.

Twelve years ago today my beautiful niece Claudia fell asleep only to wake up inside the arms of Jesus.

It's impossible to capture the emotions of this day, so I won't mar it with useless words.
There continues to be so many questions that have no answers.
Today, I choke on the words, "Blessed be the God who gives & takes away."
Selah.

Grace

Me & my shadow have a morningtime routine of sorts. We are both the first to get moving in the mornings. I wake up stumbling around, looking for my glasses and grumbling all the way to the kitchen to turn the coffee pot on.

She on the other hand, wakes up bright eye & bushy tailed. Ready for the day. Ready for adventure. Ready for hearty conversations. (She obviously gets that from her father. Sigh.)

We've worked out a bit of a morning dance. Once the coffee pot is perking, I'll stumble into the bathroom & turn on the shower. She follows me into the bathroom, dragging the ever-present blankie & usually some doll/animal/creature she is calling her baby. I grunt & humph around, while she jibber jabbers excitedly about this or that. As I step into the steaming shower, she is arranging a little nest on the floor, where she spends the next ten minutes singing songs or talking to me the whole time I am fully waking up.

I love this! I absolutely do. I know there will be a day when she won't want to follow me around 24/7. That she'll roll her eyes at even the suggestion that we should spend some time together. So for now, I enjoy these moments, capturing them in my heart & memory.
.....................

A few evenings ago, I was very grouchy. And tired. Exhausted really.
And did I mention grouchy?

It was the end of a long day. I hurried through supper & was rushing the evening time bath ritual. Sister girl was not ready to take a bath. She wanted to play. She wanted to run. She wanted to cuddle her doll/animal/creature. She was not ready to take a bath.

Being the absolute meanie mom that I am, I picked her up & carried her to the bathroom. She WAS going to take a bath. Right now. This.very.instance. BECAUSE I SAID SO.

Her normally happy mood changed. She did what unhappy 2 year olds do.
She screamed. She kicked. She cried. She stomped her feet.

My patience was gone. I was done. D.O.N.E.
So I applied all of my most awesome parenting skills & I threw a 38 year old momma fit.
GET IN THE BATH NOW.
DO NOT PASS GO.
DO NOT COLLECT $200.00.
DO NOT. DO NOT. DO NOT.
I AM IN CHARGE.
IF YOU DON'T BE QUIET, I'M GOING TO GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT!(Yes. I said it. The very phrase/words I hated from my childhood, they just errupted from someplace deep & dark & came out. I didn't just say it. I screamed it.)

Ashamedly, I'll confess, my fit throwing worked. (This time.)
She immediately hushed up, got into the bath. We rushed through the process & I put her into bed. Her compliance made me feel instantly contrite. I knew I had over-reacted. I was wrong. (Not wrong in saying that I was in charge. But very wrong in how I conveyed that I was in charge.)

Quietly I dressed her. Her blue eyes staring at me. As I laid her down, I knelt beside the bed & asked for her forgiveness. I apologized for yelling, for throwing a momma-fit. For loosing my cool & not being patient. Her little arms went around me & she gave me a wet, sloppy kiss.

Later as I closed my eyes for the night, my heart was heavy. I have so much to learn, to change, to improve on in this momma game. So.very.much. I've been here before. Whenever will I learn?


But the beautiful point I am trying to make is that the very next morning....

My little girl was happily playing on the shower rug as the warm steam filled the room. Giggling, singing, talking to me & her "baby." All of the unpleasantness from the evening before was erased.


Once again, my children are revealing so much about God to me.
I am blessed.

"Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,

for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion;

therefore I will wait for him."

Lamentations 3:22-24

A great cloud of witnesses

While I am not in the Catholic tradition of celebrating Feast Days, today I wish I was.

Just this week, my heart hurt a little bit while thinking & remembering our dear friend Rod. I miss that guy. It still takes me by surprise that he didn't get to meet my kids.

I've got a great group of folks waiting for me on the other side. Grandpa M, Claudia, Jonathan, Shera, Granny Yates, Cecil Phillips, GGrandma Maggie Jane, Rod, Lisa, Rita, Grandma M, Bev, Deana.

It is encouraging to think that they are cheering me on.

All Saints Day gives me reason to pause, to reflect and to be encouraged to continue in this race.