Hands

In honor of my beautiful mother, Sheila Davis King Brown 

 

The child eventually becomes the parent.  That's what we're told. That's what my sister and I experienced recently with both of our parents in the hospital within two months.  My mom, a breast cancer,  ovarian cancer, and stroke survivor,  was born with one kidney, and it's in stage 4 failure.  After developing sepsis from an infection, she spent one week in ICU.  We paced the floor, cried with my dad, prayed with family and friends, talked to nurses and doctors, and slept in the waiting room.  Actually, since the hospital leaves the lights on in the waiting room all night, I only slept there one night. My sister endured the lights- on-all-night for six nights. Our comfort during this time came by family, friends, and church members bringing snacks, offering words of encouragement and holding our hands. 

But what about my mother? She was critical, on a ventilator, and sedated for several days, so she couldn't experience the comfort and fellowship from friends and family.  She needed to be comforted, so while she was still sedated, I decided it was my duty to hold her hand and comfort her.  My mom has the softest hands of anyone I've known.  They're also covered in freckles, like mine.  While she was sedated,  I picked up her hand and held it, but holding her hand didn't work as I planned; instead,  something strange happened.  Her hand held mine. She comforted me.  I felt this peace I hadn't felt since she was admitted. I'm many decades past childhood, but she's still my mother, and I'm her little girl forever.  The same soft, warm hand that held me as a baby,  felt my forehead for fever, brushed my hair, and dried my tears brought comfort to me from an ICU bed.

She spent another week in a regular hospital room where there was only one chair, occupied by dad most of the time.   Mothers know their children, and she knew I was tired from working, so when I visited her, she asked me to crawl in bed with her.  I didn't dare say NO. To the surprise of the night nurse, we watched a football game curled up in her hospital bed.  Susi did the same at the rehabilitation hospital.

Grown don't mean nothing to a mother. A child is a child. They get bigger, older, but grown? What's that supposed to mean? In my heart it don't mean a thing. Toni Morrison - "Beloved" 1987

See, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands; Your walls are continually before Me.  Isaiah 49:16 NKJV

My sister cooks and cleans for my parents and makes sure they take their medicine and remember their doctor appointments.  I'm their once a week yard man.  But, as much as I like to think otherwise, my mom does more for me than I do for her.  I will never out love her.  Mothers never give up on their children. We're inscribed on their hands. They're always holding our hands.  Even as adults, we're always on their minds.  

I am inscribed in the palm of God's hands and continually on His mind. This brings me great comfort.  I may serve at church, attend bible study and talk about God's love and compassion, but no matter how much I think I know or how closely I walk with Him, He does more for me than I do for Him.  I am His child forever, always on His mind. His protection is forever around me.  I will never out love God.

While walking around busily working for God, deciding what you can do for Him, reach for His hand that is always there, and let Him comfort you. 

"I will comfort you there in Jerusalem, as a mother comforts her child." Isaiah 66:13 NLT

Happy Mother's Day,

Katy

Mom looking very healthy

 

 

 

April Showers

 

May, a pleasant month with warm sunny days, Mother's Day, prom, graduation, and flowers.  As a gardener, I look forward to May and roses, Dutch iris, daisies, and magnolia trees.  But before I enjoy these blooms, I watch the weather hoping for April showers. 

Whitten's Garden Center

An April shower is inconvenient if I have outside plans, but I don't think about that too much; instead,  I watch rain from the windows and picture what my thirsty flowers will look like after big drops of water beat down on their leaves.  After an April shower, I walk around my yard like a detective, searching for new life and blooms.  I actually do this until fall. If I visit a garden center early enough, I watch them water flowers, and I inspect the hanging baskets and flats of annuals like a mad scientist.

Eddie Rabbitt's I Love a Rainy Night sums up my feelings about rain.
           Showers wash
            All my cares away
            I wake up to a sunny day
            'Cause I love a rainy night
In the daytime, I watch the rain.  At night, I listen to it beating on the house and quickly move my ferns to the water.  The rain isn't comfortable, but if I want fuller, healthier ferns, I handle the inconvenience.  The rain relaxes me while I stand at the edge of the carport for my dog's last outside trip, so I sleep soundly hoping for sunny days and May flowers.

Planning this post, I found two perfect verses for an April Showers Bring May Flowers theme. Deuteronomy 32:2 Let my teaching drop as the rain.  and II Samuel 23:4 Like the tender grass springing out of the earth, By clear shining after rain. However, I came back to another verse several times, especially after Sunday's message.

for He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.  Matthew 5:45 NKJ

 

Jesus teaches us that God shows no partiality. We are equal, for the sun rises and rain falls on us all. Rain is also, and often, used as a symbol for life's difficulties.  No one is exempt.  But, we're taught to expect rewards for our goodness.   Take care of our bodies? Good report from the doctor.  Show the boss we're dedicated? Promotion or more money.  So, rain seems unfair when we've done everything right.

 

I was frustrated with my so-called rainy April difficulties, replacing shrubs and a car mirror, computer woes, and a few doctor appointments.  How inconvenient for me, but YAY! sunny days are ahead. Good for me.  Then, in one week, a friend loses her mother suddenly, more than 30 people die from tornados, 17 people are displaced after a creek rises, and facebook friends request prayer for a three year old with cancer. Heavy rain on the just. Where in the world are the sunny days with May flowers? 

 

Sunday's message, Finding Footing in Difficult Places, was from Psalm 77.  The Psalmist is disturbed, so he is unsure of his walk with the Lord and questions his circumstances.  He wrestles to find firm ground.  It's a fight.  The Psalmist doesn't tell us when or if his circumstances changed, but we know he changed. He drew closer to God. He doesn't mention May flowers after the rain, but he finds fresh footing.  He rests firmly in God's strength and faithfulness.  http://www.concordbaptist.com/sermons/

Right words for rainy days are difficult.  To promise days of sunshine and May flowers seems as unfair as the heavy rains we WILL experience, so I'll end with another verse and words from my Grandmother King who was no stranger to rainy, unhealthy days.

And there will be a tabernacle for shade in the daytime from the heat, for a place of refuge, and for a shelter from storm and rain. Isaiah 4:6 NKJ

 

Where there is life, there is hope,

Katy

 

Stay Awake

 

 

When I was 8 months pregnant with Hope and desperate for a nap, three year old Luke began his terrible twos.  I needed more than his one hour nap so tried to "rest with my eyes open" on my bed during the day, but Luke took full advantage.   Whispering "Mommy, you go sleep," he marched with his yellow Little Tikes chair to David's chest of drawers to climb in search of treasures: buttons, coins, pens, and a pocket knife.  "Luke, don't climb up there. You might fall, and you don't need anything up there."  "Mommy, you go sleep," he commanded as he picked up the yellow chair and marched to the bathroom in search of more fun toys: dental floss and shaving cream. 

 

Two months later, I was a sleep deprived mother of a precious but colicky, RARELY asleep (day or night) one month old and a cabin fevered three year old.  Hope and Luke feel asleep at the same time one miraculous day, so I followed everyone's advice and took a nap.  I have no idea how long I slumbered before the door bell rang.  Luckily, I was on the sofa and didn't walk by Luke's bedroom before answering my once locked carport door on a freezing January afternoon to find no shoes, no coat Luke, our golden retriever that stayed in the yard with an impossible to open gate, and a 75 year old neighbor, who lived three houses down, proudly bringing my son home.

 

No matter their age, we watch over our children whenever possible hoping to protect them from life's hurts.  If there was a way to watch them 24 hours a day, seven days a week and keep them safe, we would.  A difficult realization for parents is that this isn't possible.  I tell these particular stories to share my favorite Bible verses.

 

He will not allow your foot to be moved; He who keeps you will not slumber.  Behold, He who keeps Israel Shall neither slumber nor sleep. Psalm 121:3-4 NKJ

 

Israel's terrain was very rocky and unsteady, but the Psalmist realized God steadies his foot.  The Living Bible says,  He will never let me stumble, slip, or fall.  If he will not allow my foot to be moved, why am I tripping, slipping, stumbling and falling so often? Why isn't my walk continually steady?  To keep children from falling, loving parents carry them, hold their hand, give them rules to follow,  issue a warning,  and eventually tell them NO, but sometimes they don't want to be carried, hold hands,  follow rules, heed the warning, or hear the word NO.  God doesn't allow, consent, our fall.  We let go.  Sometimes, however, we're pushed by others.  Whatever the reason for our fall, His hand is there to steady us again.

Some translations use "watch over" instead of "keep," but I like keep. 

             I like this. I'll keep it.

He's a keeper.

I can't give this away; it's a keepsake.

Keep this somewhere safe.

My grandmother used to say she was keeping house.  She was taking care of it.

God keeps me.  He keeps you.  He's awake and gives us a warning when we climb in our yellow chairs and reach for the knife that He knows will hurt.  He doesn't sleep when we wonder off in the cold.  If we ask Him to go with us, hold our hand, carry us, He will.  If we go unprotected, if we don't heed His warning, if we let go of His hand and stumble, He's awake to pick us up when we ask.

I'm a big fan of naps and an even bigger fan of a full 8 hours at night even though I can't keep anyone or any situation when I'm asleep.  After 18 years,  I still think about what could have happened to Luke while I slumbered.  Maybe this is the reason these are my favorite verses.  I know He doesn't want me to fall; in fact, He is my firm foundation.  I know instead of slumbering, He's keeping me.  

 

He who keeps you is not asleep,

 

Katy

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

Saving Us

 

Many decades before DVD or VCR, we had albums to help us remember movies.  My sister and I listened to and memorized every word from the Mary Poppins album.  Our favorites were "The Nanny Song," and of course, "Spoon Full of Sugar." With popping into pictures, snapping fingers to clean, and singing about birds, what's not to love about Mary Poppins?  Well, Mr. Banks.  I never liked his role in the movie.  The magically cheerful nanny played by the talented Julie Andrews certainly didn't need a spoil sport.  The point of the movie was completely lost on me.

 

Saving Mr. Banks, the recent movie of Walt Disney and the writer of the Mary Poppins' books, tells the not so cheerful back story of the creative but lost and dysfunctional Travers Goff, a banker, and his daughter Helen and reminds us that Mary didn't pop in to save the children; she popped in to save their father. Mr. Banks, a proud gentleman leading a good life, has everything he needs; in fact,

 I'm the lord of my castle
The sov'reign, the liege!
Ah! Lordly is the life I lead!

 

Mr. Banks doesn't have much time for his kids, his subjects, but one Spring morning, Mary pops in and brings a spoon full of sugar, leaving the orderly Mr. Banks unsettled, and the words of Bert the chimney sweep cleverly help Mr. Banks see the empty life he actually leads.

You've got to grind, grind, grind
At that grindstone

For the Son of Man has come to save that which was lost. Matthew 18:11

When we don't understand something, like computer language, we feel unsettled.  We're lost.  We need to undertand.  When we drive for miles and hours in the wrong direction, which is my usual story, and finally realize it, we're afraid.  We're lost.  We must turn around and find our way.  Without Mary's Spring pop in making Mr. Banks feel unsettled, he would've continued being lost in his lordly life, never finding his way.

For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. Matthew 16:25

1987, Germany -Heidleburg Castle

Jesus saves me from myself and the destruction I create.  He's saving me from lording over my castle, my world,  by own rules as if I created it myself.   Do I really need to "lose my life?" Yes.  The lordly life I lead is prideful and doesn't provide fulfillment.

For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved. John 3:17

But this is reality, and saving me required so much more than a spoon full of sugar. I recently went to a dinner honoring dozens of individuals who gave blood to save lives. Blood is life.  My old self died with Christ on the cross.  His blood saved me.  Without His blood, I'm lost, unsettled and afraid.  Christ gives me a new life worth living.  Several beautifully written songs from Palm Sunday contained lines that offered a picture of a saved life by His blood.

It soothes my doubt and calms my fears, And it dries all my tears;
The blood that gives me strength from day to day.

What a sacrifice that saved my life.
Savior Son, Holy One, slain so I can live.

I am His and His alone;
This life is not my own,
My Jesus raised me from the grave.

 

He raised me from the grave I dug by my sins.  He sacrificed His life and shed His blood for me to be His alone, to be guided by His Spirit.  But first, I must be unsettled and fear lording my own life.  What about the many times I don't care about anyone but myself and continue grinding at the grindstone and lording over the castle? I condemn myself with the consequences, but Jesus offers mercy and forgiveness. Jesus calms and comforts and gives me strength every day.  Saving US on the cross was the ultimate sacrifice by Someone who loves us and wants our lives to be worth living.  

 Katy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What Will They Say?

 

 

Focus, the personal development portion of the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People course, encourages participants to create a personal mission statement.  After watching a video of a lady's 80th birthday party where guests share how they were influenced by her, we were asked two questions: How do you want to be remembered? What will they say on your 80th birthday? 

 

We're thankful he's celebrating 80 years

Born, April 9, 1934, so April 9, 2014 will be 80 years for our Dad, Ed Brown.  That's a long life of memories, influences, and advice.  A difficult but valuable lesson Dad taught us growing up was Life Isn't Fair.  After uttering the famous childhood words "That's not fair," his response was always, "Give me the definition of fair.  How would you make that situation fair?"  This usually stumped us, of course, because our complaints were often how we thought we should have something someone else had.  As wonderful as life can be, it certainly isn't fair.  Never has been. Never will be.  Realizing that has helped us many times.

 

We watched Dad work long hours as a basketball and golf coach and a social studies teacher. We didn't have luxuries, but we had what we needed.  He taught us to be loyal to our employers, and if others didn't do their jobs, we still needed to do ours.  He also taught us to be coachable, to learn from others and from our own mistakes. 

 

Birthday parties are usually celebrated with family, but we did something different this year. When developing a mission statement in Focus, participants list roles: parent, friend, spouse, teacher, sibling, etc.  For each role, participants list how they want to be remembered in that role: as a mother, I want to be understanding; as a wife, I want to be patient, etc.  The role Dad is most known for is also his passion, teacher.  Although he retired as a public school educator after 35 years, he continues to teach at Concord Baptist Church, so we celebrated Dad's 80 years with the men in his Sunday school class and their wives.

Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, let us prophesy in proportion to our faith;  or ministry, let us use it in our ministering; he who teaches, in teaching; Romans 12:6-7





Bill & Dad

Bill Caldwell, also an educator, met Dad when he started teaching at T.L. Hanna High School in 1966.  They've served together as deacons and teachers at Concord, but most importantly, they've been friends for almost 50 years.

 

Betty Crump shared Dad's concern and kind words many years ago to her daughter, who was his student, and his encouragement to them after her death.  Most recently, she appreciated the joy on Mom and Dad's faces when she returned to church after  neurosurgery.  Betty also said Bobby will always be in Dad's class.

 

Several men reminded us of Dad's love of Southern Gospel and his relentless attempts to play a C.D. every Sunday on a devise he cannot seem to operate. Dad taught history, so it wasn't a surprise when someone shared that Dad chases a few rabbits during class.  Don't ask a question about the Northern and Southern Kingdoms unless you want a full account of Hebrew history.  A few years ago I met Dad's friend and fellow teacher, Mark Hopkins, leaving his hospital room, and he said, "You better hurry, he's teaching the Sunday school lesson to anyone who will listen."

 

Uncle Sam Knox shared his first impressions of Dad as the too cool, know-it-all older brother of his future wife, my late aunt Glenda.  Dad also led him into officiating football, where they spent many Friday nights together and golf, where Sam finally reached his goal of beating his brother-in-law/friend.  

 

Mom said she barely knew Dad when they married, but it's been fun. At their 40th Anniversary party, her dad, my wonderfully sarcastic Daddy Luke, said, "I know Sheila and Ed were meant for each other," How sweet. "because no one else could be married to either of them."

 

How do you want others to remember you?  What will they say at your 80th birthday party? We have gifts.  We have passions.  It is how we use these gifts and passions that will be remembered.  

 

Happy Birthday, Dad,

 

Susi & Katy

 

  

 

Go to Sleep

 

Adults look forward to sleep,  and we do what we can to stay asleep.  Children do what they can to stay awake, and we do all we can to make them sleep.

It wasn't uncommon to read six or seven books to Luke, followed by singing every Baptist hymn I knew plus every verse of Just As I Am and Amazing Grace.  When he was five, we spent fifty nights learning about every state, including population, land area, state bird, state resources, etc.  For forty-two longer nights, a different president was his bedtime story.

I stood beside Hope's crib when she was a toddler and patted her bottom, rubbed her back and sang. Thinking  she was asleep,  I slowly lifted my hand from her back,  but without lifting her check or opening her eyes, she whispered, "shong," which was my signal to continue.  At the age of five, her bedtime story was simple: one book, usually about Barbie or a Princess, but the songs were complicated,  either The Bare Necessities from Jungle Book  (I only knew the chorus) or A Spoon Full of Sugar from Mary Poppins (It didn't matter that I'm an alto).

James required two or three books, and my creative Water Medley and Jesus Medley worked perfectly as lullabies in his glider rocker.  By the age of five, though, James found LOTS to do in his room, so we stayed with him until he fell asleep.

"Mommy, when are you going to leave?"

 "When you're asleep."

 After a few minutes... "I'm asleep now, you can leave."

"No, you're not."

"How will you know I'm asleep?"

"I can hear you breathing."

He closed his eyes, breathed as loudly as possible, and started the fake snore.  Nice try, Jaybird.

 

He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. Psalm 23:2

 

After reading Charles Allen's God's Psychiatry many years ago, Psalm 23 became a favorite passage and eventually very real to me.

The shepherd starts the sheep grazing about 4 a.m. The sheep walk steadily as they graze; they are never still. By 10 a.m., the sun is beaming down and the sheep are hot, tired, and thirsty. The wise shepherd knows that the sheep must not drink when it is hot, neither when its stomach is filled with undigested grass. So the shepherd makes the sheep lie down in green pastures, in a cool, soft spot. The sheep will not eat lying down, so it chews its cud, which is nature’s way of digestion. Study the lives of great people, and you will find every one of them drew apart from the hurry of life for rest and reflection. Great poems are not written on crowded streets, lovely songs are not written in the midst of clamoring multitudes; our visions of God come when we stop. The Psalmist said, “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). The sheep will drink only from still waters. If there are no still waters available, while the sheep are resting, the shepherd will gather up stones to fashion a dam across a small stream to form a pool from which even the tiniest lamb may drink without fear. Even while he is sleeping, the Shepherd is working to prepare for his needs tomorrow.

 

I knew the physical benefits of sleep, so I devoted many hours making my children rest their bodies for another day.   Unfortunately,  I didn't devote many hours for my own rest and stillness for spiritual health; instead, I filled my days with nonstop noise and deeds (as many distractions as possible) to avoid silence.  So, as the Psalmist promised, my Shepherd made me lie down and be still.  Starving for spiritual food, I was led to hours alone in strange stillness of cool, nourishing pastures without the usual noises hiding His voice, to reading and searching (no music or television) and an opportunity to drink water my Shepherd carefully prepared, and although it was difficult being made to STOP and REST, I'm forever grateful. I'm hardheaded and easily distracted, so I know He will do it again when necessary, for my Shepherd "restores my soul.."

 

Katy

 

 

 

 

 

Less Is More

 

I love the AT&T commercials where a grown man in suit and tie asks questions to kids, especially the one where he asks, "Which is better, more or less?" The little girl rambling on and on We Want More, We Want More definitely proves that It's Not Complicated, we really do want more. But the familiar saying Less Is More is worth discussing .

Less Is More is true in interior design, which I know absolutely nothing about.  But, luckily, I have a friend who does.  Anna Cheek, owner of Cheek Interiors, is an exceptionally talented designer, and she shared some insight about "less is more."




    www.cheekinteriors.com

 

One of the questions I have to often answer as a designer is, “How do I decorate the bookcases?” (The infamous large built-in cabinets next to fireplaces in a living room.)  If you don’t have a plan here they quickly become a magnet for every small knick-knack you have ever collected or been given in your life. When shelves or walls, or really any surface you have in your home, becomes covered with several items it can start to feel cluttered.  You might own 25 beautiful pieces of collectible pottery, but if you place them all on one shelf, none of them becomes special. They compete with one another. If I take them all down and then carefully select 3 or 4 of them to put on display, then all of a sudden their individual details become more evident. The color is more pronounced and the shape or texture becomes the focus. When there are fewer things competing for your attention, then you can truly appreciate the beauty of the selected items on the shelf.

Anna's beautiful work

Wow.  "None of them becomes special. They compete with one another. Individual details become more evident."   What is actually special to me?  Is it my focus?

He must increase, but I must decrease.  John 3:30

If I have a relationship with Christ, what is my purpose? Who is the focus?  Is life all about me or all about Christ?  If there's so much Katy, are Christ's details (love, compassion, grace, patience, forgiveness) evident? Am I trying to show what a wonderful person I am by telling what I do, or am I showing the marvelous God I serve by telling what He does?  In other words, am I competing with God?

This is a tough verse, and I believe it's a struggle for all who wish to serve Christ.  We are important; our personalities are important. We deliver an important message according to our varied talents and abilities. God requires me to be Katy, but there's a problem when His message becomes cluttered with too much of me:  my opinion, my pride, and my desires. When it's all about me, it's less about Him. 

 

There's nothing like swallowing pride, is there? It's something I'm asked to do continually because my actions and words are often in His way.  After a week of the flu in February, I returned to my daily walk in the woods with my dog.  Feeling extremely weak, stressed, and emotional, I walked and talked longer than usual, desperately trying to convince God that what I was doing was for Him, but He knew it was all about me. I reminded Him of His details I was attempting to show.  He reminded me of pronounced color and textured scars I was covering up with my own agenda.

Think about Anna's words, "when there are fewer things competing for your attention, then you can truly appreciate the beauty of the selected items on the shelf."   I know we repeat this so often, but Christ truly is beautiful.   

And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us, And establish the work of our hands for us; Yes, establish the work of our hands. Psalm 90:17

            It's Not Complicated, we really do want more, especially of      ourselves, but more is only better when it's Him. Less of me is More of Him, more of His beauty. Is Christ our focal point?  Are we pointing men and women to ourselves, or are we pointing them to Christ?

    I want more Christ, what about you?   
     Katy

Speaking of beauty.... I haven't met anyone who doesn't think Anna is beautiful, and she reflects Christ's beauty as well.