Spoiler Alert: Plan 2 is better...

Here were the plans we had made:

1. Go to Big South Fork National Forest in Kentucky to the Blue Heron Campground on Tuesday and stay one week, leaving the next Tuesday.

2.  Come home from Blue Heron Campground.

Here’s what actually happened:

1. We didn’t like the Blue Heron Campground for reasons I’ll get into via my other blog Miscellaneous Ramblings on Friday.

2. On Sunday, we decided to travel back down to Alabama to a campground about 40 miles from our home.  We had never been there, but it had been recommended to us by several folks.

3. We planned on staying at least two nights and maybe three.

4.  Monday morning, as we were sitting outside our camper in the beautifully cool weather (hard to believe it’s August in Alabama), I got a phone call from a friend who said that my mother (who is 91 and lives in an assisted living apartment in the same town where I live) was going to be hospitalized for bronchitis.

5.  After calling Mom and getting details, David and I drove to the hospital, beating her there by about 10 minutes.  She didn’t really feel bad, but her cough was something else entirely.   

6.  I stayed with Mom during the three days she was there.  She handled the 2 nights alone just fine.

7.  It took 6 hours to get discharged from that hospital today!  Very frustrating.

8.  Mom is home, reunited with her cat, Gracie, who was very glad to see her mama.

As you can see, our simple 1-2 plans did not quite work out. 

But did you notice how God put us within shoutin’ distance of home where we would be needed?

And did you notice that Mom didn’t really feel bad?

And did you notice how much God loves each of us to orchestrate this whole deal so that it turned out well?

And have you noticed that God does the same for you?  Think about it.  It will come to you. 

And when it does, thank Him for His grace, His unmerited favor.

 

Grace (God’s undeserved favor) be with all who love our Lord Jesus Christ with undying and incorruptible [love]. Amen (so let it be).

                                                                   Ephesians 6:24 (AMP)

A Back-to-School Story

(Due to conditions beyond my capabilities, Wednesday's blog is one day late.  So just pretend it's Wednesday, and we'll be fine.  I promise.)

When I was in my early 30's, I went back to school to become a court reporter.  There were probably 20 ladies in the class, most right out of high school.  I was one of only two students above the age of 25.

There was a group of about 6 ladies who hung around together, ate lunch together, went to movies together, that kind of stuff.  They loved to get in a tight little huddle and whisper and laugh.  Sometimes one would look up and focus on somebody in the class, then she'd turn back to the group and whisper and then all of them would laugh.  It was very obvious that they were laughing about somebody in the class. 

It was like being back in high school.  Ugh…

I kept hearing my name whispered throughout the day between these girls, and I didn't like it.  So finally I went over to them when they were in their little huddle and said, "I keep hearing my name.  Are you talking about me?" 

They were stunned – deer in the headlights kinda thing – and very quickly assured me that I was not the Carol they were talking about.  It was the other Carol in the class.  I asked them what she had done to make them talk about her so much.  Apparently, they thought she was trying to be teacher's pet, always had the right answers, always had her homework done, dressed funny and talked funny. 

My turn to be stunned.  I had not picked up on that at all.  Okay, maybe the teacher's pet thing a little.

As time went along, they got bolder and bolder with their disdain about Carol.  I saw them snub her and ignore her.  I tried to avoid the group and ignored their whispers. 

One day in typing class, one of the girls did not bring any carbon paper to class.  Not the worst crime in the world, but the teacher was very strict and would not allow you to stay in the class for that day.  You were either prepared and stayed or you were unprepared and dismissed from the class. 

So this girl was frantically asking those around her for carbon paper because she could not afford to miss a class.  No one in her little circle had any to spare. 

And about that time, Carol said, "I have some you can use."  Much to everyone’s surprise, she handed her a piece of carbon paper.  The whole room stopped and stared.  This girl in particular had been very rude to Carol, and here was Carol offering her the very thing she needed to stay in class.  She took it, mumbled a "thank you" and sat down at her typewriter.

That girl had no right to any kindness from Carol, but Carol did it anyway.  It was so simple, really.  Just offering what was needed.  That’s grace for you.

God does the same for us. Reaching, reaching, waiting, waiting, and then showing us what we don't deserve – love, caring, tenderness.  Grace.

From his fullness we have all received grace upon grace;  John 1:16 (CEB)

Thank you, Loving Father.  Thank you for grace.  Thank you for people who show us grace.  Thank you for allowing us to be the grace for someone else.

                                                                                Amen

A Back-to-school Story

When I was in my early 30's, I went back to school to become a court reporter.  There were probably 20 ladies in the class, most right out of high school.  I was one of only two students above the age of 25.

There was a group of about 6 ladies who hung around together, ate lunch together, went to movies together, that kind of stuff.  They loved to get in a tight little huddle and whisper and laugh.  Sometimes one would look up and focus on somebody in the class, then she'd turn back to the group and whisper and then all of them would laugh.  It was very obvious that they were laughing about somebody in the class. 

It was like being back in high school.  Ugh…

I kept hearing my name whispered throughout the day between these girls, and I didn't like it.  So finally I went over to them when they were in their little huddle and said, "I keep hearing my name.  Are you talking about me?" 

They were stunned – deer in the headlights kinda thing – and very quickly assured me that I was not the Carol they were talking about.  It was the other Carol in the class.  I asked them what she had done to make them talk about her so much.  Apparently, they thought she was trying to be teacher's pet, always had the right answers, always had her homework done, dressed funny and talked funny. 

My turn to be stunned.  I had not picked up on that at all.  Okay, maybe the teacher's pet thing a little.

As time went along, they got bolder and bolder with their disdain about Carol.  I saw them snub her and ignore her.  I tried to avoid the group and ignored their whispers. 

One day in typing class, one of the girls did not bring any carbon paper to class.  Not the worst crime in the world, but the teacher was very strict and would not allow you to stay in the class for that day.  You were either prepared and stayed or you were unprepared and dismissed from the class. 

So this girl was frantically asking those around her for carbon paper because she could not afford to miss a class.  No one in her little circle had any to spare. 

And about that time, Carol said, "I have some you can use."  Much to everyone’s surprise, she handed her a piece of carbon paper.  The whole room stopped and stared.  This girl in particular had been very rude to Carol, and here was Carol offering her the very thing she needed to stay in class.  She took it, mumbled a "thank you" and sat down at her typewriter.

That girl had no right to any kindness from Carol, but Carol did it anyway.  It was so simple, really.  Just offering what was needed.  That’s grace for you.

God does the same for us. Reaching, reaching, waiting, waiting, and then showing us what we don't deserve – love, caring, tenderness.  Grace.

From his fullness we have all received grace upon grace;  John 1:16 (CEB)

Thank you, Loving Father.  Thank you for grace.  Thank you for people who show us grace.  Thank you for allowing us to be the grace for someone else.

                                                                                Amen

Just Ask

Part of John 15:7 says, “Ask whatever you will, and it shall be done for you.”  Sounds great.  Ask whatever you will.  Like ask for a million dollars, for that dream job, travels, adventures, bigger houses, bigger cars.  Wow!  “Ask whatever you will, and it shall be done for you.”

BUT… the first part of that verse is:  “If you live in Me [abide vitally united to Me] and My words remain in you and continue to live in your hearts, (THEN) ask whatever you will, and it shall be done for you.  (my emphasis)

Whoa, now; wait a minute.  IF you live in Me?  I have to be united vitally to Jesus?  His words remain in me and He continues to live in my heart?

Well, now, that’s different.  Where are my dollars and my dream job and bigger and better stuff? 

See, if Jesus lives in me, well, that’s the end of the stuff.  I know enough to know that He is not concerned with this really cool stuff that I want.  I know that He is concerned not with worldly things but eternal things. 

What difference does it make what I have here if I don’t have an eternal future?  That’s what He wants me to see.  Ask whatever you will.  In His name.  Amen.

Photo by Cindy West McGregor

 

Little Girl Lost

Mom and my sister Linda were at home.  Daddy and I were at our church (Trinity UMC in Huntsville, AL).  We both thought the children’s choir was going to perform during the worship service.  For some reason, Daddy left the church and went home.  He said he’d be back to pick me up.

Anyway, there I was, a 3^rd grader in 1960, finding my way to the choir room where I found -- nobody.  My children’s choir was not singing in the service that day.

I didn’t know what to do.  We were new members of the church and I knew only a few of the kids by name.  One of the other parents offered to let me sit with them.  But it was going to be communion, and I didn’t know how to go down front unless I was with my parents.  I was getting panicky at the thought of not being with my mom and dad because they always knew what to do.

I was scared and felt so alone. 

I finally decided that I would walk home.  Except I didn’t know exactly where home was.  I knew that if I walked down Airport Road and hung a right onto the Parkway, it was just a little ways down there somewhere.

So I started out.  It was winter, and the wind was blowing.  I quickly got really cold. 

But I was determined to get to where I was going, so I trudged on.  I had a new coat on that looked (to me, anyway) like Little Joe’s horse on Bonanza.  So I talked to that coat (remember, I’m in 3^rd grade) and assured it that we would eventually get home.

I was scared and felt so alone.

I remember that a car stopped.  A woman was at the wheel.  She opened the passenger side door and I saw a couple of kids in there.  She asked me if I was all right.  I said I was.  She asked me where I was going.  I told her home.  She asked if I was lost.  I said no, I knew the way.  She invited me into her car, but I couldn’t get in a stranger’s car.  That was wrong, and I wasn’t going to do it.  She finally and very reluctantly drove away. 

I was scared and felt so alone.

Then, after some more trudging and what felt like hours going by, another car stopped.  This one had a policeman in it.  He was very nice, asked the same questions the woman had.  And when he said to get in his car, I knew it was okay because he was a policeman and he was there to help me.

He asked my name and address.  My name I could handle, but I didn’t know my address.  We had moved recently from one side of town to the other.  I could get him to the old house but not to the new one. 

I think it was then that it hit me.  I was truly lost.  I didn’t know where my family was and I didn’t know where my house was.  I started to cry.  Not loud and dramatic, just sniffling a little bit, trying to keep it together and be a big girl.

I had a vague notion of where the house was.  I knew it was close to Redstone Arsenal.  The cop pulled onto Bob Wallace Avenue and headed in that direction.

And then I saw my dad, driving toward us.  I pointed to our car and yelled, “That’s my daddy!  That’s my daddy!”  The cop slammed on the brakes and pulled over.

Daddy saw me as I pointed to him.  He slammed on his brakes and pulled over. 

And I joyfully ran across the road and into the open arms of my Father. 

I was lost but now I’m found.

Sound familiar?