My daughter was sharing something that happened with me the other day and one phrase was, “and this little old lady”.
“Little old lady,” I interrupted, laughing. “That’s me. I am your little old lady.” I don’t think she realized I qualified even though I have been retired almost 10 years. I said, “Yes, when they talk about elderly parents, that’s me.”
I don’t mind growing old. I just pray I will not become a crotchety old person, but one who has learned to roll with life’s punches and still reflect the joy of Jesus.
Well, not quite. But just three days left around here! One friend I talked to said her daughter was already missing school. So I ask my grandchildren if they are ready to go back to school instead of having summer. You guessed right. “No way, Grandma!” My daughter is thinking the same thing. She teaches middle school. She likes her job but confessed that she is looking forward to summer.
My oldest grandson is graduating the end of the month. He will be headed to college next fall. How fast they grow!
Happy summer vacation!
How many memories I have of my dear sweet mama, now in heaven four years. To honor her, I want to repeat a poem I posted awhile back because it has such good memories of who she was. She was a delightful lady, full of fun, music, and love of others.
Your greatgrandson is only four
but he’s heard the songs from the forties.
“Abba Dabba Honeymoon,”
“Me and My Shadow,”
“Playmate, Come Out And Play with Me,”
“Teddy Bear’s Picnic,”
songs you sang to Gayle and me
when she was three and I was four
Maybe someday he’ll get to meet Mrs. Doodenlopper.
She used to come take care of Gayle and me.
She looked like you.
We said, “You’re our mother!”
She always replied, “Oh no,
she’s at the store. She’ll be home soon.”
Then we would have tea
when Gayle was five and I was six
He’ll never get to see the doll furniture your made
for Gayle and me
from orange crates
with a hammer, nails, and your butcher knife
when you were pregnant with Wayne.
It made a dandy kitchen with
empty thread spools for knobs.
We wore them out playing house
when Gayle was six and I was seven
Gifts. So many of them. Sometimes I miss them because I am not looking. I took the challenge from the Christian writer, Ann Voskamp to find 1000 gifts from our Creator God. This is my “Thank You Journal”. I list my gifts and find I have lots to be thankful for. They aren’t major gifts. One day it was a sunny day after a lot of winter days. Another day it was simply peanut butter or half a grapefruit. Some days it is that I feel really good or I don’t hurt. I have given thanks for water that comes to my house so easily when I have read that clean water is available in some countries. My grandchildren, my car running despite many miles on it, a hot cup of coffee, a day at home after a busy week are all marvelous gifts. The other day I wrote tacos. I had been wanting to have tacos but since I live alone, I wouldn’t be able to buy just enough make only one meal. When I was at my daughter’s the other day, they had tacos for dinner and I got to stay.
I have made a commitment to put down five things I am thankful for every day. It may seem silly to some that I write down these simple things as gifts. But doing that reminds me that God is interested in even the little events of my life. When things aren’t going well, they remind me that God is there and He is taking care of me. In the really bad times which we all go through, I can have peace.
This isn’t the first Thank You Journal I have kept. But it is the prettiest and probably the least expensive. But inside are words of gold. So I add, thank you, Father in Heaven, that you give me gifts that show me you care. Not big ones most of the time, but small ones I can tuck into my heart. I love you.
A few months ago, we celebrated Christmas–God incarnate, coming in the flesh as a baby. How neat to celebrate that time!
But now the baby is grown. He has died. He has risen. He is alive. I celebrate because I have life in Him, beginning when I came to believe in Him and accept His lordship, to go through eternity! So I celebrate. I have hope!
“Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you when he was still with you in Galilee?”
(Luke 24:5, 6)
THE TRUTH BE TOLD
The truth be told we’re tied to sin.
Iniquity, transgression tell the truth
of our lives. Sin tosses us bare bones for
life but death is our reward and takes our hope.
But One from heaven took human form and lived
in total submission to His Father, defeating
death and delivering deliverance to those
who choose His life. The truth be told,
our ties to sin are demolished.
Life is transformed.
We have hope.
DEATH HAS LOST ITS STING
Rejoice! for death has lost its sting.
The grave is empty, for the King
no longer lies in chains of death.
He is alive, defeated death.
This living King will soon one day
rule earth and heaven in righteous way.
No longer will the evil stain
what God has made, for Christ will reign.
Children are a gift from the Lord.
Mischief, wrapped in skin, and innocence,
fingers terrorizing dog and cat
hands tearing all apart, leaving
shreds of everything all through the house
feet that carry her to hiding places
far from searching mother’s eyes and ears
turning mother’s once-dark hair to gray.
Angel child, with auburn, bouncy curls
big brown eyes and smiles that light the dark
kisses bringing laughter through the clouds.
Mystery of life and love, asleep,
Cuddled in my arms, next to my heart.
NEW BABY BROTHER
My sons, Aidan, four, and Gareth, age one,
Were soon to be joined by another.
One day I asked Aidan, “What do you think
Of having a new baby brother?”
He looked up at me with his bright cheery smile.
“That’s cool,” said my little blond son.
He paused for a moment, his eyebrows went up.
“Hey, Mom, can we keep the old one?”
Visit this site for a laugh!
Children are a gift from the Lord.
The poetry book continues.
JUDAH AND THE CHEERIOS
“Cheerios. They taste so good.
I’ll put them in my mouth.
And such a pretty box they’re in.”
So now, the box goes south.
And all the little Cheerios,
Which graced the rug they sat on
No longer round and whole,
They grace the rug they’re ground in.
A DOLL FOR DARLA
Five dollars and 100 one-ounce Mr. Peanut bags
for a Mr. Peanut doll,
a cloth peanut with arms and legs
and just enough polyester
to make him little more than a pancake.
Black stove pipe hat perched on his head,
monacle over one eye,
the image of Mr. Peanut
just not as handsome—
a gift for eighteen month old Darla.
A toddler’s sparkling eyes, a quick hug,
and off to play with her new toy.
Proudly he rides Wonder Horse,
the golden plastic stallion,
pencil arms sticking out,
pencil legs straddling his mount,
head held high,
looking straight ahead with the face on his front
and behind with the face on his back
as Darla wheels them around the room
Bedtime, end of ride.
The most beautiful doll in the world
rests in the arms of his mama—
a deal for 100 one-ounce Mr. Peanut bags
and five dollars.