In Honor of Our Dad

I know I am late, but  I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge my dad; a man who is a pillar of strength and epitomizes true fatherhood. I thank him for the countless sacrifices he made for our family.  My childhood and adult life are filled with many fond memories because of him.  As I reflect on all he has done to nurture, inspire and encourage his children, the following memories and characteristics stand out most: 

His kind heart.  When his sister, who was a single mother, passed away he volunteered to raise two of her daughters.  Soon he would open his heart and his home to another niece and nephew that were in need of love and support.  Many years later, after all his children had reached adulthood, he was introduced to a baby boy.  This young child suffered with medical issues and an unsteady future.  He opened his heart and home once again; making the decision to help rear a child in need. 

A mystery solver.  One night a week, my dad would pull rank and take command of our one television set.  His show of choice: Columbo, a fictional crime series featuring the absent-minded, yet master crime solver  Lieutenant  Columbo, played brilliantly by actor Peter Falk.  Having no choice, but to sit and watch the show with him, this proved to be our special bonding time with our Dad.  We sat and watched  the show and became skilled at solving mysteries.  This is probably why my sister and I thoroughly enjoy episodes of Law and Order,  The Closer and Scandal and are quite adept at solving whodunit-themed movies and TV dramas.

He is a doer.  If my father put his mind to it, he would accomplish it.  Our three-bedroom house was really too small for a family of twelve.  But, he figured out a way to convert our attic into three bedrooms without the help of a contractor.  He also provided us with an indoor playroom – the basement – as he hung sheet rock; thinking of inventive ways to create a play space for his young children. 

He is a Godly example.   My dad served as my first example of God.  Before I knew there was “God, the Father,” there was George, my father. He insured that we established a relationship with God, took us to church and made sure we were active in its programs.  Additionally, he sacrificed, he loved, he disciplined, he nourished, he encouraged and he motivated all of us to be the best that we could be.  And, even when we fell short or disappointed him, he challenged us to move forward.

A Top chef.  Sunday dinners were always phenomenal thanks to my dad.  He prepared (and sometimes still does) a smorgasbord of food without any assistance (he won’t accept it): fried chicken, ham, greens, rice, macaroni and cheese ( the grandchildren’s favorite), cabbage, banana pudding, cakes and the list goes on.  He is a master at preparing southern delicacies.  I didn’t pick up this skill ( a guess it skips a generation), so I (and my child) am especially appreciative of the hard work and love he puts into any meal he prepares.

He is fiscally savvy. Once a month, I watched my dad sit at the kitchen table and organize his bills and write checks.  He made sure bills were paid on time.  This helped me to appreciate the value of  good credit.      

A guardian and protector.  During one of my trips to college, I became snowed in at an out-of-town airport.  Not having much money or access to nearby family or friends, it was a scary experience for me.  My dad did not rest until he contacted someone at the school, found local help and made sure I was safe.   This is only one example of the lengths he took to insure the safety of his children.

A provider.  I never thought much about money while growing up.  My dad was a hard worker, who ensured that our needs were always met.  He did not go very far in school, but he worked hard at his factory  job.  Through his hard work he was able to purchase a home;  we always had more than enough to eat; had sufficient clothes and even managed to take vacations, granted they were eight-hour drives to the South.  And, we even got the occasional “White Castle” treat on Friday evenings.  Providing this for a family of 12 was nothing short of a miracle, but to me my dad was a miracle worker.

He is resilient.  He was raised on a farm and had to help his dad who was a sharecropper.  He was prohibited from going to school, something he desperately wanted to do.  Wanting more out of life and for his future, he escaped the South by joining the military and moving North to establish a better life for himself and his future family.  Now that my dad is 70+ and suffers with Parkison’s disease.  He could easily become sedentary, but he still continues to nurture, inspire and motivate his children and grandchildren.  And, he continues to be an example of fatherhood!

Dad for all the things you have done for our family and continue to do, we salute you.

Love You!

Changes

Since my sister, Michele got her hubby to be a guest blogger, I thought it only fair that I too have a guest blogger. So, my daughter volunteered to do the blogging this week. Happy reading!

Henry Wadveworth Longfellow once wrote, “All things must change to something new, something strange.” As much as I want to disagree with the man, I must admit, he’s absolutely right. Growing up as an army brat, you would think that change and I are old familiar friends. And why wouldn’t it be this way? The army life is filled with change. Picking up and moving from a place that you’ve become accustomed, waving goodbye to friends you’ve grown to love, and memories are pretty hard; especially when you’re shy like me. Well let me rephrase, I can be shy when I first meet someone but after you get to know me, it’s smooth sailing from there.

After going through the “moving process” about five times, you would think I’d mastered the art of change right? So wrong. I take comfort in familiarity, which has made change my nemesis. Change and I have been going at it on the regular for as long as I can remember. I’ve always focused on the negatives that change brought, leaving old friends, going to a new school, and turning an unfamiliar house into a home. But I had to remember that every negative has a positive, and while change is difficult, it’s also necessary and productive. 2 Corinthians 5:7 says, “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” Simply put, when we accept Christ as our Savior we are changed for the better. This just goes to show, that all change is not entirely bad. Graduating from high school, and pretty soon college is a change. Meeting new people is a change. Getting a promotion with a pay raise is a change. Strange and new things can be a blessing in disguise and instead of fighting against all change; we should look at it as an opportunity for God to shine. If things don’t change, they can’t grow. I think of roses. They start out as a seed. The seed turns into a thorny bush. And before you know it, roses are blooming. often tell my friends when they’re going through a difficult change, “Everything will work out… I have a feeling.” If you’re a child of God, take comfort in knowing that everything will work out. Romans 8: 28 states, “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”

One major change that occurred recently for me was the passing of my grandpa. My grandpa’s departure from this world has brought much sadness. My grandpa has been a permanent fixture in my life and even though he is no longer in his earthly body he will always be a permanent fixture in my heart. I know that his body has been changed and he is no longer concerned with the things of this world. So while I mourn the loss of my dearly departed grandfather, I take comfort in knowing that he is experiencing a change like no other, a change that only Jesus can give if you accept Him as your Savior.

Our One and Only Sons

I (Michele) was not feeling well this weekend. My very capable husband stepped in to write this week’s blog. Thanks honey!

Have you ever had a surreal, almost out-of-body experience? Sadly, I had such an experience yesterday. One minute my son was fine, playing in the backyard with his cousins, and the next minute he’s being carried into the house – covered with blood with a gash in his head gushing blood. Bit by bit, I received the information about the accident. There was a toy plane. Both he and his cousin wanted it. They bumped heads. The feeling of helplessness was almost overwhelming. I began praying. After wiping up some of the blood, thankfully, I saw God’s grace right after the accident. The cut wasn’t on his face but within his hairline. Plus, his cousin was fine.

Just as I caught my breath, I realized the hard part was yet to come. This was a head injury. So, I had to take him to the hospital. And I had to tell his mom. “There was an accident, our son hurt his head,” I nervously had to tell my wife over the phone. “There is a lot of blood and I am taking him to the emergency room. Please meet us there.”

Later, after talking with my wife, we both had the same fears. “Please God not our son, not our one and only son. We can’t have another. Please don’t let anything happen to him.”

It wasn’t too long before my wife met us there. My shirt was covered with my son’s blood, I was definitely a sight. Praise God, my wife alerted a prayer army. A few minutes later, we were joined by them – our pastor, his wife, as well as a fellow minister and his wife. The prayer warriors had sent the prayers ahead of us to the hospital. The Bible tells us that the “fervent, effectual prayer of a righteous person availeth much (James 5:16).” I am sure our prayers helped to transform the situation. What was a terrible, heart-wrenching experience turned into a lesson in faith. Soon, my feeling of helplessness was superseded by God’s endless capacity to handle all situations. And my uncertainty about our son’s diagnosis was replaced by my confidence in God, who had the final prognosis.

Eventually, the doctor on call informed us of our son’s condition. It was a minor incident and he would be fine. With a prescription for antibiotics and the help of glue (to close the wound), we were all sent home.

The next day, my wife pointed out that the entire incident was a microcosm of the sacrifice of Jesus. She reiterated that God faced this same situation more than 2,000 years ago when His one and only Son was placed in harm’s way for us. You see, our son is our one and only son. In both cases, there was blood spilled and that’s where the comparisons end. God gave us back our son. But God the Father and God the Son didn’t hold anything back. The Father gave his Son completely and his only Son, Jesus Christ, gave his all for us.

Sometimes, Christians fail to realize the enormity of the sacrifice for our sins. When I look at my son’s accident through that perspective, I am even more thankful for Christ, his sacrifice and his enduring love and how the love of Jesus continues to bless us all.

The Grass Isn't That Green

Growing up, I couldn’t wait for the weekend to roll around. Friday nights at 8 were the absolute best. That’s when my parents would transform our living room into my brothers’ bedroom. Each night the sofa cushions were removed from what we referred to as the “let-out-couch,” to reveal and unfold the full-sized bed that lay dormant all day. After the linens were tucked and pillows fluffed, I would take my place underneath the sleeper sofa, positioning myself between the two metal support bars. I had a clear and perhaps a much too close view of our family’s television set. For about thirty minutes I was transported to a world where problems were solved in a matter of minutes with laughter, quick wit, and a catch phrase. I thought Man, this must be the life. I would be so happy if my parents were rich or if I were on television. It was the beginning of a beautiful weekend.

I spent many an evening underneath that bed, eyes glued to a box of picture and sound. I must have viewed every episode of Different Strokes. Never once did I think that the children who seemed to have everything they could possibly want had struggles beyond my wildest imagination. It’s ironic how a television show that prompted such happiness to its young audience, produced sadness and misfortune for its three young actors.

Many times, we think the grass is always greener on the other side, when it’s actually astroturf; fake, phony, and painfully rough. God’s word teaches that covetousness leads to "many sorrows" (1 Timothy 6:10; James 5:1). Only God can give true, lasting satisfaction (Psalms 107:9; Isaiah 55:1-2) and joy that cannot be taken away (John 16:22). So many times we want what others have, without realizing what it took for them to obtain it. That brand-new car that you see someone driving, are you willing to live on hot dogs and beans for a year to obtain it? That house that is so beautifully decorated, are you willing to live with the abusive spouse that comes with it? That chubby-cheeked little boy who seems to have the life you desperately want, are you willing to suffer through two kidney surgeries, parents that steal from you and an adult life marred with money woes, continued health issues, anger and bitterness?

The news of Gary Coleman’s passing saddened me. While I didn’t personally know him, he was part of my childhood. A childhood where double-dutch, freeze-tag, hide-and-go-seek, and a walk to my grandmother’s house was a substitute for the non-existent Wii. A time when life was pretty good, despite the fact that I didn’t live in a penthouse on Park Avenue. Truth be told, those things that I thought I needed was simply Satan’s way of planting a seed of covetousness. A seed that if watered by the cares of this world will keep me from God’s best. So when I look at the lives and possessions of others, I try to remember that everything that glitters isn't always gold and that the richness of God is far greater than anything man seeks to obtain.

So as I reflect upon the passing of a piece of my childhood, I thank God for the rich blessings he has bestowed on me throughout my life, and hope that the little boy who brought a smile to many a face so long ago, came to know the Lord before his passing as a man.

Stop and Smell the Flowers

Having just picked up my child from school, in a rush to prepare dinner I made a beeline to the door. My son, who seemed to be moving in slow motion, asked if he could pick the flowers blooming so beautifully in our front yard. I impatiently replied, “No, let them stay there for all to enjoy.” But before I could get the key through the door and scold him for running in the opposite direction, my son quickly picked a daffodil to present to me. “Here Mom,” he politely whispered, “I want you to have it.” Then he began to instruct me, “Put it behind your ear mom.” I did as he said. “Wow you look so beautiful,” he uttered.

In the midst of hurrying to get through the door and get dinner on the table, my son had managed to stop time for me. I took a few minutes to reflect on his life’s journey. You see it was a long, arduous expedition that led to his birth. Infertility had taken its toll on his Dad and I, yet, miraculously, after nine years of tests, diagnosis, infertility treatments, failed in vitro fertilization attempts and an ectopic pregnancy, we rejoiced at God’s miracle: a healthy embryo growing and thriving inside me.

I so enjoyed being pregnant, despite the morning sickness, the shortness of breath I experienced and the occasional discomfort from a growing belly. I viewed myself as God’s willing vessel, a participant in bringing forth new life. During my last trimester, he moved and squirmed so much, I thought he was a contortionist. He made imprints on my protruding mid-section, and I constantly asked my husband to witness the theatrics. I realized space was becoming limited for him and it seemed that he was anxious to make his arrival. And, I was eager to meet him.

My baby came into the world with a very loud scream and my life has not been the same since. He has given me some sleepness nights. It seems like yesterday, I would often be heard commenting, “when will he sleep through the night,” and now how I miss holding him in my arms and feeding him. During his young life I pushed for every milestone, “When will he walk? When will he become potty trained? When will he learn to eat on his own?” Yet, I miss those early stages and realized that my friends with older children, who so wisely stated, “He won’t stay young long,” were so right.

I soon shifted back to the present and finally responded to my son’s thoughtfulness, “Thank you sweetie, you are my biggest fan, next to Dad, and I love you.” He replied with a quick, “You’re welcome Mom,” and focused on his next request, “Can I watch a DVD?”

That day my son taught me a valuable lesson – take time to allow the busyness of life to be interrupted. Yes, life can be hectic. As women, we are balancing multiple roles: wife, mother, professional, housekeeper, Sunday school teacher, volunteer and so much more. But, in the midst of it all don’t forget to stop to smell the flowers. Taking time to enjoy and reflect on God’s blessings will surely transport you to a place of joy, laughter, tears, thankfulness and praise.

In a Word

Scorched is the perfect adjective to describe how I felt sitting in 90 degree weather, insulated in a black cap and gown on a shadeless, breezeless football field. To say I felt like a wilted black rose would be an understatement. But despite the back sweating-stick to your seat-hair flattening temperature, I was certainly glad to be in the number.

Uncertain is the appropriate word. June marks year four for me, here in a different state. Before moving, life had thrown me a series of curve balls. Nothing made sense to me. I was almost forty years old and my life was about to take on a drastic change. I was going to be single, my daughter was on her way to college, I had a new job, my friends and church family would now be six hundred miles away. All the plans that I had made for myself had all but vanished. I was questioning everything, everyone, and God.

Perfect is what God is. In the midst of uncertainty, when things were so chaotic God proved himself over and over again. And often led me to Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.” I had all these plans...all these dreams which I neglected to lay before the Lord. While I do not agree with all things “Oprah”, she does make a very profound statement. “God can dream a bigger dream for you than you could ever dream for yourself.” Which leads me back to my sauna of a graduation. Looking back four years ago, I never would have imagined getting another degree but God did. I never would have imagined buying a house by myself but God did. I never would have imagined being blessed the way that I am now.

Thankful is a great word. I am so thankful that God loves me, cares for me and has the perfect plan for my life.

Timing for God is not always our timing. Life may have thrown you a couple of curve balls, that may have you feeling dazed, depressed, and maybe even downright enraged. Just remember God has a plan for you. It may not be a plan you envisioned for yourself, but one that is a more than you could have ever imagine. Be still and know that He is God! Psalm 46:10

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother’s Day to my 70+ year-old mom. A diminutive woman, with a no-nonsense attitude and a BIG personality! As I reflect on my childhood, I stand in awe of all that she did for my siblings and me and how she continues to impact our next generation.

She is a giver. As a young bride, she had a rather difficult decision to make. My aunt, who was a single mom, passed away. My mom agreed to raise two of her children. Later two more of my cousins would join our family. Later in life, another child needed her love and support: now she is mothering a teenage son. Coupled with her biological children, she has reared 11 of us. I get exhausted thinking about all of us running around our three bedroom house; her preparing us for school , church and our annual road trips down south; researching summer programs to keep us busy; refereeing fights and disagreements and constantly providing her unconditional love and support.

An educator. A retired factory worker, she did not go far in school, but she is one of the wisest women I know. With her intuitive mother’s wit, she tutored us all on Sesame Street and The Electric Company. We were expert readers thanks to her personal preschool program. When something was beyond her understanding, she sought the help we needed to achieve and succeed.

Financially savvy. My sister and I have an affinity for classic, timeless clothing, because our mom saw the value of shopping in thrift stores and buying quality rather than trends.

A healthcare expert. She doctored all of us through chickenpox, stomach-aches, toothaches, broken bones and countless other accidents. As we grew older, the illnesses became more serious: epilepsy, diabetes and cancer. She was still there with her gentle spirit, praying for healing and prodding us to seek treatment and take better care of ourselves.

A master chef. She is able to prepare a scrumptious meal in minutes and leave us all wanting for more.

Blunt and to the point. She calls it likes she sees it. If you are wrong, she’ll tell you. If you need to do better, she’ll let you know that too. She challenges us to be and do our best and doesn’t accept excuses.

An advocate. She will go to battle for what is right for the family. Forcing us to talk to each other, when we are too stubborn to realize disagreements shouldn’t keep us apart. If we did well she was at the school making sure we did better; if we weren’t doing well, she was at the school making sure we would do better. Now, she lobbies for her grandchildren’s success.

She has a strong work ethic. She has worked as a maid, a factory worker and babysitter. No job was beneath her, she did what she had to do to help my Dad provide for the family.

She loves her community. Don’t talk about the urban area she calls home. Despite the crime or bad news stories, she is always able to find the good in the city. When prostitutes began to flock to the corners in her neighborhood she overcame them with love. She fed them; encouraged them and told them about the love of Jesus.

Has a great sense of humor. In every church fashion show or every gospel play she’s been involved in, she shuts the place down with her hysterical moves and awesome delivery.

She is an awesome caretaker. With the spirit of a 40 year-old, she is a caretaker for her grandchildren. Her service is priceless. She is not sedentary. She forces this electronic generation to go outside and play, takes them on long walks, reads books to them as if she were in a theatrical production, bathes them, feeds them and prepares them for bed.

Most importantly, she is a woman of God. She is the Proverbs 31 woman. She showed us what it meant to truly love the Lord. Not just by her words, but through her actions.

Mom, for all that you do for our family. We salute you today and every day. Happy Mother’s Day.