Some Catching Up to Do

I stumbled out of bed this morning with a full day ahead.  I had several things to pick up before the lunch for the family and then the funeral at two.  It doesn't take long for my brain to jump into high gear, full of to-do lists.

I stood at the mirror knowing I didn't have time to wash my hair, plugged in the straightener, then grabbed the blue tube with the age spot minimizer, then the red tube with the puffy under eye reducer, and the red jar of deep wrinkle cream and wondered again if I put them on in the wrong order.  If all this time opening jars and tubes was really a waste of time and money.

I put a little peroxide on my toothbrush to get whiter teeth and remembered the spot on my shirt from stirring last night's Christmas party sloppy joes.  Grabbed the shirt with toothbrush still in my mouth and poured a little peroxide on the spotted shirt.  Rubbed it a little, spit in the sink, and wah-lah(!) - teeth a little whiter and shirt a little cleaner.

Put on the brown pants from yesterday because I really like my little brown striped socks and went to put on my shoes and found my jewelry I had been looking for in the other room tucked snuggly in the toe of the right shoe.

I went in to Walgreens to make photos for the three remaining sisters, picked up more tea and a few things to go on the tables for the family to feel like we really cared about them.
Got back to the church to the kitchen crew organizing all the food.

The service was beautiful.  Linda would have loved it.  After all the sweet songs, funny stories, great hugs - it was what I saw at the end that touched my heart.

A boy bent over a casket grieving his momma.  Weeping over her still body, no longer able to take a breath.

I saw a small boy rocked by the death of his grandma.  Nieces and nephews so sad because she is gone.

What a testimony of a life.

She dearly loved and because of that she was loved dearly.

I didn't tell my girls that I loved them this morning before I left.  I just opened tubes and jars and played with peroxide and straightened my hair, but I didn't see if they had any needs.  I haven't talked to one of my boys in at least two weeks and the other in several days, and it's been a couple of days since I've talked to Kayla.

They all know I love them, but do I show them enough?  If I'm gone tomorrow will they question my love for them or will they know absolutely that I loved them more than life?
Will all my "other kids" know how precious they are to me?  My mom and sisters?  My family who lives on I-45 in a metal building?

Will Michael know without doubt of my love and complete devotion for him?

If I wake up in the morning I have another chance to let them know.  Another chance to cover them up in prayer and love and reasons to miss when I'm gone.  Another chance to love more and serve more and sacrifice more.  No one cares how big my age spots are or how deep my wrinkles are or how puffy my eyes are.  They only care that I love them.

I have some catching up to do.

What Kind of Woman?

Friday night fourteen of us gathered around tables in the back yard to fill our tummies.  Then we gathered in the living room to fill our hearts.  We took a look at Proverbs to see what kind of women we are and what kind we should be.

Did it make a difference in their lives?  I really don't know.  I do know the Word is powerful and living and can cleanse.  All I have to do is be faithful to show them.  Teach them.  Encourage them.

After they stretched out all over the floor for a few hours of sleep,  we filled their tummies again and sent them on their way.

Praying, praying, praying there is a difference.

So Much

I'm so blessed.  So thankful for my life.  Here are some things I'm praising God for this week . . .

. . . group hugs,

. . . snickerdoodle birthday cookies,

. . . stylin' guys wearing stylin' glasses,

. . . bulk cooking once again,

. . . and friends.

. . . smart chicken momma wanting only the best for her babies,

. . . re-purposed quilt.

. . . Momma and her boy getting wet.

. . . joy all over faces.

. . .  curriculum.

. . . womb mates.

Giving Thanks With the Multitudes

Today I'm joining with lots of other grateful hearts in giving thanks:

# 122 His hand holding mine in life and ministry.

#123 Tired but happy kitchen hands who fed over 100 faces four nights in a row.

#124 Mr. Bennie, who got wet because he knew he needed to, not because someone wanted him to.

#125 Don - self-proclaimed Servant of God who's walk far outweighs his talk.

#126 Spiritual dad when there is no physical dad in the life of a boy. Thank You, Jesus.

#127 Hands, little and big, raised in praise.

#128 Like hands - like hearts. I love her.

We Need More Towels!

It takes one towel to be draped around shoulders as they step out of the watering tub; to pat face, and to squeeze dripping hair.

To soak up as they stand and watch. They watch as the next one steps gingerly into the warmed water for their own dunking.

One towel for each body.

Each one standing because they choose to walk the life road differently.

Each body with one hand holding Youth Minister, the other holding Dad. Or one holding Youth Minister, the other holding Spiritual Hero; or one holding Youth Minister, the other holding Mom.

Then there is the couple wanting to start out their “rest of their lives” on a spiritual foundation.

There are plenty of tears. There are a whole bunch of smiles.

My heart can hardly handle the sweetness. The sweetness of seeing family gathered around.

The sweetness of having to buy more towels.

God is Here

We are day four of youth camp here in the hills of northern Arkansas. God is here. I honestly think some of the kids didn't even stop to think that He might come to meet with us.

They are overwhelmed.

He is so good.

I'm in between cleaning up after breakfast and cooking for an early lunch so we can go in to Eureka Springs to go through the Bible Land tour and then end our evening with worship at Thorncrown Chapel. Then back here for a late night snack of apple dumplings and ice cream. Ummm.

We've had very little sleep and a touch of a stomach bug. Nothing Pepto hasn't been able to handle.

Please pray for these kids because walls are coming down. Lives are being changed.

All those prayers you have been offering up have been received and acted on. There was lots of weeping in cabins last night because, yes, God is here.

We are bringing Him back with us.

You will see Him in their faces.

Memorial Day Weekend - Busy

We started last weekend on Saturday morning with the Polka Fest parade. That is one of the longest parades ever. We had lots of people on the float and riding horses behind the float.

We grabbed a burger then went out to the church for the Car Show and Buckout going on until mid afternoon.

Then I went on to the house to continue getting things ready for the church picnic on Sunday evening at our house. Kayla, Rachel and Sam were coming in from Oklahoma and they brought a surprise. Actually, two surprises: Eli and Journey.

I always love when they come.

We went to church on Sunday morning then hurried home to put on the beans and make the hot sauce for the evenings' festivities.

Bob and Madeline came out about three to start cooking burgers and hotdogs.

Glenn helped a lot because Michael was meeting with a family who was about to bury their daughter.

I think we fed probably about 160-170 people. And probably that many chiggers, despite the attempts to eradicate them before the humans got there.

Overall it was a great, very full weekend.

Monday morning I wrote what I was thankful for in my 'Writing Down Grateful' book:

A yard full of trash after a yard full of party.

Cowboy Church of Ennis float in Polka Parade.

My man on his horse.

Church members riding in parade.

Choosing "Pastor's Favorite" award at Car Show at the church.

Garrett doing his thing - and doing it well.

Gene ready to help.

Dominoes at the picnic.

Relaxing and enjoying the fellowship at the house.

Sweet girls.

Volleyball game.

Watering Trees

Today I went to the church for a few minutes and noticed our Oleander trees needed water. The garden hose wasn't in front because men were using it in the back moving fence to give us more parking. So, since I was there I decided to go out and water the pecan trees by the arena that we planted in memory of loved ones.

I climbed the fence and started pulling the hose down to the end of the fence line. There was mud all over the hose, but I noticed that it smelled a lot worse than mud. As I was walking back to turn on the water I found out why. I had pulled the whole hose through a freshly laid cow pattie. I started to say freshly squeezed but that didn't sound very lady-like. It's safe to say that the hose wiped out most of that fertilizer mound.

So then I began to soak the trees. I bent over to wash all the mud off my shoe and raised up to see 20 something cows/steers/bulls (not real sure what they are so I'm covering all bases) staring at me through the fence. They had horns. I screamed a little.

Finishing one side and headed for the other, I was stopped in my tracks. Turned around and a big red cow/bull/steer was standing on my manure rough hose. Right on it. "Shoo!" didn't work. It just stared at me. I threatened with words that included "ground" and "round". Still stared. Reminded me a little of being a mom. The water hose became my weapon. They eventually left so I could finish up the job I had started.

The trees are beginning to bud, for which I am so grateful. The sign of life on something that represents a life no more.

I remember planting the first tree with the daddy of the man the tree was to represent. We dug, watered, planted and covered this small tree. He helped me with several others and as I was putting up hose, I noticed him leaning on his shovel, tears in his eyes, looking at this tree.

There was nothing he could do to keep his son from escaping the grips of cancer, but he was going to do everything he could to keep this tree alive in that boy's honor.

That shovel bearing the weight of a dad and his grief.

They are brothers, sons, daughters, and husbands. Eight trees now doing more than growing and giving us shade and fruit.
Eight trees set as a reminder of lives lived.

So we will water. To see life.
.

Washing the Feet

Sunday was the final night of our relationship study with the students and Korey did an amazing job the last four weeks of showing the kids the picture of Jesus as the groom and the church as His bride. Instead of telling them not to have sex before marriage we told them why and how to keep that purity for the Lord.

This last night we had wedding cake and punch and tables set up like a wedding reception. There was someone we set up before hand to help us show the kids that we have to make ourselves ready to be part of the bride of Christ (Rev.19: 7-8). Lisa was sitting there when Korey went over and asked her to leave because although she looked dressed up on the outside, on the inside she wasn't what she appeared to be at church. She was screaming as she was being escorted out of the room. I knew it was an act but it killed me to hear her screaming to stay.

Korey then told about the wedding banquet then reminded them of the skit the first week when a young couple, Leighton and Malllary helped show the kids a picture of Jesus and His bride through a wedding ceremony. Leighton was waiting when Mallary started down the aisle. Instead of the beautiful dress, she was wearing rags, carrying bags and suitcases. Dropping them and eventually falling down, her groom ran to help. He picked up the bags and carried them the rest of the way. He picked her up, told her how much he loved her and promised to protect and provide and love her. He then took her and washed her feet before he left, promising to come back for her as soon as he got their house built. The next time we saw her she came out in her wedding dress looking for her groom. She saw him coming and ran for Him. They embraced and held each other.

After recapping the four weeks Korey invited the kids to sit in a circle and began to wash their feet. It wasn't long before Heath and Leighton also began washing the feet of these kids. Leighton is an art teacher and a former college baseball player. He and Mallary have helped us get kids to concerts and other things when they are needed. Heath is a former champion bull rider and now has a ministry called "Spurrin' for Christ" teaching these boys how to ride bulls. Korey left a career to come teach the students here, and loves them so much. To see these three men on their knees showing servanthood, but even more than that, showing these kids that they will help them keep the dirtiness of the world out of their lives so they can present pure hearts to Jesus, was priceless.

HEROES

The soldier slammed his fist down on the table and with a trembling voice and tears in his eyes told the students how he had
grabbed his 45 and headed to the barn. He was going to put a stop to the endless nightmares. He wasn't going to relive that war anymore. He was going to take his life.

God had another plan for this old man. He had someone He wanted this weary soldier to meet.

This meeting changed his life. Jesus gave Bennie a peace he had never experienced before. Sixty-something years after that war ended he can now sleep through the night.

I watched the students' faces as they listened to Bennie tell story after story, hearing how God has changed his life. I watched them gather around him to hear more even after he was done.

We have asked men and women in our church to come and tell our kids how God has changed their hearts. Many have come up to me and told me they would love to share with them. There are so many with amazing stories and my heart wants these students to see that we have heroes of our faith sitting right here among us.

Not only does it give the kids someone to look up to, it makes the heroes more accountable to try to live like they are called to live. It's so easy for us to forget that we are being watched all the time. Maybe if we remembered this we would live a little better. Maybe it would even encourage our kids to go out and be heroes to the little ones in their lives.

A young girl shared something with me last week that happened last summer. She saw some of her heroes doing something that disappointed her. When she told me about it, I couldn't help but cry. Not because of what she had seen, because I already knew about that, but because it made her so sad.

If we all lived like we were being watched, like we were someone's hero, my guess is that we would walk a more godly walk. We would not do anything to make these young ones trip and fall.

Be a hero.

Ladies' Holiday Dinner

Allie handing out tickets for door prizes.




Leah and Rachel practicing their "red carpet" walk one of many times.




Lisa, Michelle, and Sue


The first year we were here I sort of introduced the ladies of the cowboy church to the Ladies' Holiday Dinner. The first time I ever saw one was at University Heights Baptist Church in Stillwater. The ladies up there knew how to decorate a table! I was only able to attend one when we lived there because Kyle was always playing ball on the Saturday of the event. I did, however, help one lady buy the fixin's for her table. I'm embarrassed to say she had to explain to me what a plate charger was.

So I decided our ladies here would probably enjoy this type of event. The first one we had I decorated the tables and we had 18 women. They all enjoyed it so much. The next year we had several tables that others decorated then the next year even more. Last year Brandi Dillard took over and we packed that little triple wide. They had so much fun and started talking that night about how they could do their tables the next year. This year we were in our new building and probably had 250 people or more by the time you counted the sweet men who came to serve us. Brandi and Jack and her mom Sharon went the extra mile to make sure everyone was blessed.

One of my sweetest memories of that night was seeing the excitement of Cheryl as she showed me her table. She used the theme of the Fruit of the Spirit. She had been taking notes in Bible study on Monday nights and she was so excited. She even had little coloring sheets of the fruit with crayons as a fun gift. It was sweet because she is a brand new christian and her joy was contagious.

Another sweet memory was looking over and seeing the men of our church praying before they came to make sure we had our glasses full and plates of yummy food in front of us. And of course hearing Randy, my cousin, tell us about the God-given potential we have in us and encourage us to see ourselves as God sees us. It was a sweet, sweet night.