The story is written — but it is too long to put in here as a Xanga entry. I just e-mailed it to my regular recipients. If you didn’t get it and want it, just let me know what e-mail addy you want it sent to, and I will send it along. We leave in the morning for the wedding, Lord Willing. Thanks to April who will come and watch Blind Linda for me. (I cannot tell you how grateful I am, dear Girlie!) Take care!
Monthly Archives: September 2005
So, now CMW went to give blood, stuck her sandal toe in an uneven pavement joint and fell flat (and I do mean FLAT) on her face on the sidewalk. Three stitches in my already too fat lower lip, many brush burns on my already too red face, and a nose that is fat. Plus, everything HURTS. Oh, well. Keep watching for a CMW story. I would be remiss if I didn’t turn this into something…
Hom my new Xanga-look. Thanks Eldest Daughter! I really do love it!
It is a wonderful, beautiful morning in DE. Breezy, cool and just fine for staying home, doing laundry, making soup. I have a feeling my daddy is picking lima beans. My brother, Nelson, and his wife, Rose are here for the week. It would be a wonderful thing to go to my Mama’s house, shell lima beans and soak up the fellowship. Families are wonderful things, aren’t they?
It is nearly midnight. We (Certain Man and Certain Man’s Wife and Eldest Daughter) just got home from a wedding in Pennsylvania. Tanya Martin married Justin Gehman in an exquisitely beautiful garden in an afternoon ceremony. When Tanya was born, 22 years ago in Ohio, our family babysat her while her Mommy (Bev) went off to work so that her Daddy (Dean) could go to DeVry Institute of Technology. Tanya was a beautiful baby, she grew into a lovely girl and today was a stunning bride. She married a fine young man, and both of them are serious about serving Jesus… The joy of this day was marred only by the sadness that comes from having parents who no longer live together. A bitter, angry father slipped into the back of the garden after the ceremony started and slipped out again before it was over. It has been his choices that have turned his daughter’s heart away from him, but it is still so sad.
“Will she ever forgive him?” I ask my friend, Bev. We are standing in the late afternoon light, Bev elegant in her cream-colored gown with a chocolate trimmed bolero setting off her gorgeous hair and skin. Her eyes are sad. “I don’t know. I only know that it was his choice…and that is how it will have to be. I had hoped today would be different, but …” Her voice trailed off. It is one of the things that I love about Bev. In the last ten years, there has been precious little to hope about, but she just cannot quite stop hoping that someday something will change, It gives her a softness, a childlike quality to makes me want to protect her — to make her dreams come true. I do not think I could bear to hope. I am quite certain that I would never handle life with the grace and courage she has.
Tonight, I thank God for an earthly father who exampled before me what a Heavenly Father is like. I’m so thankful for each day that God allows him to enjoy. I really do feel like we all still need him so much. I thank God for the Daddy of my children. For the protection and love that he has given to our children. For his love for me, and for the many times he forgives me and draws me back into right thinking. For his steady hand and heart, for his unselfish, sacrificial love for us all. Neither of these men are perfect. I would never claim they are. But especially in the face of their humanity flies the evidence of God’s incredible grace and their appropriation of it.
Marriage. Parenting. LIFE. This has certainly been a day of contemplation.
I came downstairs this morning to the usual tasks that always await. The morning was cool, and the house was quiet. Certain Man, who gets up at 4:30 to have his Quiet Time, had already gone to the chicken house. There is a 15 minute window around 7:00 when it seems like everything happens at once. Blind Linda’s bus comes, Certain Man leaves for work, Eldest Son leaves for work, and often, Middle Daughter leaves for school. Youngest Daughter follows a half hour or so later, and then the house is really quiet. It is a gentle, holding quiet, and there are always things begging for my attention.
Today, my heart is stretched in a lot of different directions. Youngest Daughter is struggling mightily with Algebra. I told her this morning that she has a heart to give to her fellow students that is much more important than getting good grades, but it still matters so very much to her. Middle Daughter called half way through her morning. “Mom, please pray for me. There are some really nasty cliques in my class, and I am just really having a hard time with it.” Our Middle Daughter will withdraw rather than work hard at relationships that hurt her. I know that she has been taking her lunch and going outside by herself many days to eat rather than face the profanity and immoral talk that goes on. It is a time for her to regroup and think. She prays for ways to relate Jesus to these people, and I see that she is making some progress. She feels things so intensely, and has had some tough situations to weather in these last few months. My heart aches for her. Youngest Son is in the “most intense” week of his training. The staff at the SEND House asked that we pray specifically and often for the REACH’ers this week. Youngest Son says that it is the week dealing with coming under authority, dealing with unconfessed sin, and coming to freedom. It strikes me that there is much to pray about for the young people. (He tells me that his group may be heading to New Orleans for their “practicum” in a few weeks since the previous made plans are not working out. H-m-m-m.)
And there are other things that sit inside my heart every single day that turn my heart to The Father over and over again, for I know no where else to go. I am reminded that the LORD’s Mercy to us never fails, no matter what the circumstances, and even as I desire that you would pray for these things, I also know that each of you have things that I could pray for. This was especially brought to my attention by the following e-mail that I received just before I began this letter. I share it, hoping that you will take time to pray for this little girl and her family. It was from Waneta Chaffinch, and she gave me permission to pass it on.
I just heard from a former co-worker. One of her
present co-worker’s daughters, 16 month old Aliyah,
got ahold of her grandmother’s morphine and is in a
coma and on life support in Christiana Hospital. Her
11 year old sister found her on the bathroom floor and
called 911. The doctors give her a 1% chance of making
it. Apparently, the little girl was down for a nap,
so the grandmother thought, when she toddled into the
bathroom and found a “lolipop” in the trashcan. It
was a berry flavored morphine lollipop for a cancer
patient. The grandmother hadn’t let anyone know how
bad things were, or something like that. They need a
real miracle. We’ve got a miracle working God, let’s
get together to ask him on their behalf. thanks-Waneta
So, all you out there in Xanga land. Do you like my new “face?” I wish I could claim responsibility, but I can’t. My talented and ambitious daughter, better know as “Jesse’s girl” did this for me. I think it is wonderful! And that is all for now. I need to get to bed…But THANKS, Christina! You did a wonderful job. I really do love it!
Today was a “grape juice” day at our house. Kathy Sharp had called me to ask if I wanted her grapes, and she thought they were ready yesterday afternoon. I think they could have had a few more days, but some were starting to rot on the vines and so I went down and got them. She thought there might be a couple of buckets, but it turned out to be five 5-gallon buckets. They were a blessing to me, as we were nearly out of grape juice. I got 32 quarts of concentrate. I kept both of my steamer/juicers going pretty much all day.
Carson, who is the son of Certain Man’s nephew and his wife (Weston and Stephanie) was my helper today in this task. There is a new baby at his house, and his Mama had a few post-pregnancy difficulties, so she is spending a few extra days in the hospital. Carson has been spending his regular days with “Annie-tiss” as he calls her sometimes(Auntie Chris) and sometimes it is just “Teena”. Around mid-morning, Christina brought him down because he wanted to go to “Aunt Mare-wee’s house.” I was working on my grape juice, and Christina was blowing all the dead leaves off my deck with the blower. Carson had been out there when she started, but the noise startled him, so I brought him in, put him on a chair beside my sink, and he immediately wanted to be involved.
“Holp. Aunt Mare-wee. Gapes.” he said firmly. I wasn’t sure that he would be much help, but I gave him a stem that had only good grapes on it, and let him go at it. He was terrific. He pulled off each grape carefully and plunked in in the bucket. He learned that some were “Geen” (green) and those were “Ew-w-w-” He stuck at it faithfully for at least a half an hour and was truly a help. Every now and then, he would look out the window and say “Teena. (Christina) Bow. (Blow) Nosey. (Noisy).” After about a half an hour of productive labor, he decided that it would be fun to throw the grapes and pour water. It got to be time to divert his attention, so Christina went to change his diaper, decided that he could use a bath (he was soaked to the skin from his “Holping”) and then gave him some lunch. He was so tired by then that he was barely able to stay awake, so she took him to her house, where he had a good long nap and then he was busy “holping” Christina clean the garage. His Grandma Crossgrove (“Gammy”) picked him up there this afternoon.
This little guy really lights up our lives. He is a precious, precious little fellow. Almost never whiney or grumpy. He has a healthy case of the twos right now, and one of his favorite words is “no” but even in that, he is easily diverted. I often think of how many empty spaces he fills for us, and thank God that we have been so privileged to be a part of his life. Can’t wait to see the new addition. Stephanie tells me that Nevin James is a near replica of Carson. We had hoped to go up to see them tonight at the hospital, but had two sets of drop-in company, and that derailed us. Christina and Jesse got there, so I will be getting a full report, I am sure.
Must run. Lots to finish up here tonight. It is Church Retreat weekend at Denton, so I have lots to do in the next 24 hours.
Much Love, Mary Ann