Hugs

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.        
Psalm 34:18

Bedraggled

I’ve lived in Georgia long enough to know gardening can be a challenge as summer draws to a close. This year is no different. I can barely set foot outside without becoming mosquito bait, I’ve had less than half an inch of rain in the past month, and only the most heat-loving of my plants are tolerating the hot, dry conditions. The rest look tired and bedraggled, a reflection of how I’ve been feeling. (See my last post, “What a Friend,” for more on that subject.)

I’ve spent hours moving the sprinkler around the past couple of weeks in hopes of helping my plants survive until it eventually rains. One recent morning, as I went out to turn the water on, my butterfly weed caught my eye.

“Just great. Now something’s been eating my butterfly weed.”

Merry Munchers

Then it dawned on me. “Something’s been eating the butterfly weed!” Sure enough, upon closer inspection, I spied a nearly-grown Monarch butterfly caterpillar methodically munching on one of the few leaves remaining on the plant.

Thrilled, I crossed the driveway to check the butterfly weed planted on the other side. Those plants were almost stripped bare, too, but there were three tiny caterpillars chewing through the tough remains.

My dear friend Susan Hunt refers to such encounters as “heavenly hugs,” those specific touches that remind us that God knows each of His children intimately.

Preoccupied

How could I have missed seeing the caterpillars earlier? I’m usually so observant when I’m in my garden, intentionally searching for treasures that I imagine my heavenly Father placing here and there, then watching with anticipation, waiting for me to find them.

The fact that I hadn’t seen the caterpillars when they first showed up was a clear indication of my gloomy state of mind as I focused instead on the heat, drought, and mosquitoes that were robbing me of the usual joy of being in my garden. Being deprived of that comfort made the other, non-garden concerns even weightier.

Refocus

Seeing the caterpillars reminded me that there had been other treasures in the previous weeks, including a cheerful volunteer sunflower planted by an unknown critter and daily visits from the feisty hummingbird that frequents the black-and-blue salvia near my front door.

A friend, knowing my struggles of the past few weeks, reminded me of the Apostle Paul’s directive in his letter to the Philippians, “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things” (Philippians 4:8), which followed his mandate, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:6-7).

Our focus matters. The attitude of our hearts matters.

Regardless of our circumstances, God has not left us. He invites us to bring our concerns to Him, thankful for the evidence of His love all around us, confident that He will hear us and grant us His peace, peace unlike any the world can give.

Dear Lord, please enlighten the eyes of our hearts so that we may see your good gifts, reminders of Your great love for us, and a mere foretaste of our glorious inheritance in Christ (Ephesians 1:18).

Scuppy the Fern

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.
James 1:17

The summer heat and humidity are finally beginning to loosen their grip on our little corner of the world. My grandchildren and I took advantage of the lovely weather a few days ago and went for a walk, our first one in recent memory.

I’m not sure if Joshua or I spotted it first, but there, in an overgrown patch next to the big sidewalk, as we’ve come to refer to the half-mile of concrete that stretches from their property to Main Street, was a unique fern.

As soon as I saw it, I wanted it. It was delicate and petite, unlike most of the exuberant ferns already sprawling in my woods. Lyla and Emma, ahead of us on their scooters, circled back to see what had caught our attention.

All of us agreed it was quite lovely yet apparently unnoticed or cared for by anyone else, given the state of its surroundings. A discussion ensued regarding whether or not it would be acceptable to rescue it. I initially said, “No, we don’t know who owns the property, but we do know it’s not ours.”

As we continued our walk, the rationalizations began, with each of us contributing to the debate.

“Maybe it’s in the right-of-way and will just get mowed down if we don’t save it!”

“If it is on someone’s property, I bet they don’t know or care that it’s there.”

“Let’s see if anyone is in the yard next door when we go back by. Then we can ask.”

Each time one of us would offer a new suggestion to justify digging it up, I would say, “We really shouldn’t.” Then we passed by it on our way back home. I looked longingly at the fern, and said, “I’ll ask Mommy. She can be my conscience.”

When my daughter Mary arrived home, Joshua told her about the fern, and I told her about our debate regarding its status, ending with, “I told the kids I’d let you be my conscience.”

Mary looked at me with an amused smile and an expression that said, “You already know the answer, Mom.”

I conceded, “You’re right. No digging! It’s not my property or my plant,” consoling myself with the hope of finding a grape fern (yes, Joshua and I looked it up) at a future native plant sale.

When I returned to Mary’s house several days later, Joshua could barely contain himself.

“Grammie! Guess what I found?! A fern like the one we saw on our walk. It’s in our yard!”

Sure enough, there, nestled next to the trunk of the Japanese maple not ten feet from their front door, was a grape fern. Joshua was adamant. “I want you to have it, Grammie. I know it will be happy in your garden.”

He handed me his trowel, and I proceeded to carefully dig up the tiny treasure.

“Thank you, Joshua! I’m glad we didn’t dig the other one up. Looks like God had one for us all along.”

Some might see the little plant as a reward for doing the right thing, but I don’t. Knowing we’ve made God-honoring choices is a reward in itself. Instead, I see it as a reminder that God is fully capable of providing whatever He deems is good for us. He owns the cattle on a thousand hills (Psalm 50:10-11) and cares for the birds and the lilies (Matthew 6:25-33). We have no reason to covet, rationalize, and certainly not steal!

I’ll readily admit that I didn’t “need” the fern, but I can never have too many reminders of God’s steadfast, intimate love. He sees me. He knows me, you, and each of His children by name. And, like a loving Father, He delights in giving us good gifts (Matthew 7:11).  

Even though many of my plants have connections to special people or events, I don’t think I’ve ever named one, but we decided the fern deserved a name. According to Joshua, it needed to be inspired by grapes since it’s a grape fern. I chose Scuppy, short for scuppernong, grapes that have a special connection to my mom, which is a story for another time.

When others see Scuppy in my garden, they’ll see a delicate fern, but I’ll see a memorial. Not one as imposing as the one erected by the Israelites when they crossed over the Jordan River (Joshua 4:1-8), but a monument nonetheless. One that will remind me that God has already given the priceless gift of His Son and will not withhold any lesser thing that He deems good for us (Romans 8:32).

Thanks, Mom!

Her children rise up and call her blessed.
Proverbs 31:28a

Ok, you probably think I’ve gotten my holidays mixed up. No, I know it’s not Mother’s Day. But it is the season of Thanksgiving and today is my dear mom’s 87th birthday. Thus, I want to thank God for the blessing of a godly mother as well as celebrate this very special woman by documenting some of the nuggets of wisdom she’s shared with me for as long as I can remember.

People will let you down, but God never will. Mom and I have been through numerous trials together in the nearly-60 years since she gave birth to me. Lies, disappointments, job loss, broken relationships, deaths. Through it all, Mom has taught me to depend on the One who says He’ll never leave or forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:6); who faithfully keeps His promises (Hebrews 10:23) and speaks only truth. (Hebrews 6:18) We will have troubles in this world, but Jesus has overcome the world. We can find peace in Him. (John 16:33)

When faced with a list of tasks, do whatever’s bothering you the most first and get it behind you. When I feel overwhelmed, which is more often than I like to admit, Mom encourages me with this time-tested advice bestowed upon her by one of her grade-school teachers. Though it may not have been inspired by scripture originally, there’s certainly a Biblical tie-in. Usually when my to-do list becomes over-loaded, it’s filled with chores associated with temporal concerns. Cooking, cleaning, weeding, mulching, paying bills and the like are necessary. But Jesus makes it clear we’re to seek eternal things first, trusting Him to provide all we need (Matthew 6:25-33) and spending time at His feet to learn of Him. (Luke 10:38-42)

We can’t change anyone else, much as we’d like to sometimes. We can only give an account of ourselves. My reply when Mom tells me this? “You’re right. I have a hard enough time keeping myself in line!” Once again, there’s Biblical truth in Mom’s statement. As part of His magnificent Sermon on the Mount, Jesus warned against judging others, especially since we have sin in our own lives to deal with. (Matthew 7:1-5) Praise God for giving us His Spirit, which is at work in us to bring about the transformation we’re incapable of accomplishing on our own. (2 Corinthians 3:17-18) Furthermore, we’re called to pray for others, but only He can soften hardened hearts. (Ezekiel 36:25-27)

We can’t give up. We’ve got to hold on to our faith and keep going. Throughout her life, Mom’s faced challenges that may have led some to quit or become bitter. In the last decade alone, she:

  • shattered the bones in her right shoulder, an injury that required surgery to install a plate and multiple screws and left her with limited range of motion in that arm.
  • suffered a heart attack that led to the discovery of three severely-blocked arteries resulting in emergency open-heart surgery.
  • fractured a vertebra in her back and had a procedure known as kyphoplasty to repair it.

Mom endures daily pain due to the ravages of arthritis that have led to enlarged joints in her fingers and cartilage deterioration in her now-bone-on-bone right knee. Yet she rarely mentions her constant aches. Instead, she clings to God’s mercies which are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22-24) and encourages those in her inner circle to do the same. Though she’s never declared a favorite verse, I expect Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”, would be a front-runner.

That’s a Gulf song. Granted, this statement isn’t advice, but I include it because it alludes to my heritage of faith. Mom grew up in the tiny town of Gulf, NC, where she attended a small Presbyterian church established in the 1800’s. When the strains of a familiar hymn from her childhood begin to play at our current church, Mom’s face brightens and one of us will usually lean toward the other and whisper, “That’s a Gulf song.” I don’t know how many generations my heritage of faith encompasses, but I know there are at least two behind me and two in front. I pray that legacy of faith will be passed continually from generation to generation until Christ returns. (Deuteronomy 6:4-9)

IMG_4723Though petite in stature, Mom’s my biggest cheerleader and most dependable defender. We all need someone who’s unconditionally, unreservedly in our corner. I’m so thankful Mom’s in mine. She’s my rock because she consistently points me to the Rock and reminds me His everlasting arms are securely holding all who belong to Him in an eternal embrace. (Deuteronomy 33:26-27a) O LORD, please help me to do the same for my precious children and grandchildren. Thank You for the priceless blessing of a godly mother!

Give ear, O my people, to my teaching; incline your ears to the words of my mouth! I will open my mouth in a parable; I will utter dark sayings from of old, things that we have heard and known, that our fathers have told us. We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the Lord, and his might, and the wonders that he has done. (Psalm 78:1-4)

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth! Serve the Lord with gladness! Come into his presence with singing! Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him; bless his name! For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations. (Psalm 100)

Make note

The Lord has been faithful to provide for me and my family in so many ways across the years. In fact, a desire to encourage others by sharing some examples of His goodness is what led me to begin blogging. I promised to write this particular post for some friends in various stages of buying and selling homes, but I pray the over-arching message of God going before us will resonate with many of you.

As I open up my mental portfolio containing instances of God’s providence, the file marked “Real Estate Transactions” stands out because it encompasses events that still give me amazement-induced goose bumps when I recall the specifics all these years later.

Several months after my late husband Ray and I got married, we began to contemplate the possibility of purchasing our first home. The image of him sitting at his drawing board/desk, his silhouette illuminated by a clamp-on light as he calculated and re-calculated the numbers, is etched in my memory. After several such assessments, we decided to purchase a townhouse attached to one other unit. We had three bedrooms on the top floor, an open floor plan on the main level and a full basement which we partially finished – plenty of room even after our daughter Mary was born two years later.

But when I became pregnant with daughter Jessie, Ray and I decided to start looking for a single family home to accommodate our growing family. Unfortunately, the houses we could afford weren’t within our desired distance to work and those in our preferred areas were priced beyond our budget. We looked and looked, our hopes repeatedly dashed. It was a hot, humid summer in Delaware and I was eight months pregnant, with all the attendant hormonal upheaval. So, when Ray excitedly told me about an open house at an older home in the same neighborhood as our townhome, I suggested he check it out while I treated my hot, tired, grumpy self to a nap.

Ray returned from the open house, his spirits still high, and announced, “You really need to see this one! It could be our house.” Several days later, I accompanied him on his return visit. I, too, liked what I saw. Coached by our realtor, we made an offer slightly under the asking price, only to be outbid. Once again deflated by dejection, we surmised it wasn’t the one after all.

Several weeks and more disappointing house-shopping jaunts later, the owners called to let us know the deal had fallen through and their house was back on the market. After thorough consideration of our options, Ray and I decided their house actually was the one.

Having finally concluded the search phase of our mission, we asked fellow members of our Sunday school class to pray our townhouse would sell. A young couple came up to us after class and said they’d be interested in looking at it. They did just that a few days after Jessie’s birth[1] and, without ever putting up a for sale sign, we secured buyers.

5-29-2015, 108 DewaltThe house on Dewalt Road was to be our long-term, raise-the-kids residence, but DuPont decided to move my entire work group to Georgia so we could be closer to our customers in the carpet industry. Once again we were faced with selling a house, this time one filled with toys and accessories parents of toddlers are used to stepping over and around. I dreaded the process of keeping the house picked up and ready to show at any moment. After Ray and I signed a contract with our realtor the day before I left for a weeklong business trip to California, I told them, “Ok, you two. I want you to find a buyer before I get back.” (Cue laughter.) But God graciously provided a young family, much like our own, who could no doubt imagine their own children’s toys strewn across the playroom and parked in the yard. They were ready to make an offer by the time I returned home.

Fast forward five years to when the unthinkable happened. My beloved 39-year-old husband went to work one beautiful spring day, suffered a fatal heart attack and didn’t make it back to what has indeed been my long-term, raise-the-kids residence. My parents were living in Charlotte at the time and had been considering a move since my dad was recently-retired. What a blessing when they chose to move to Georgia to help me with the logistics and challenges associated with being a single mother. They had an offer on their house within a few days of putting it on the market. And, when my mom told the owners of the house they bought in Georgia the reason for their move, the woman replied, “Our house was under contract several months ago, but the deal fell through. Now I know why. God was saving it for you.”

I realize your real estate history probably differs from mine. Maybe you’ve endured weeks without showings and multiple price cuts during stagnant markets. But, as I hope you can see, this recounting isn’t about houses at all. It’s about remembering God’s faithfulness. About recording instances of His provision and sharing them to encourage yourself and fellow believers when times get tough. (Psalm 63:1-8) About speaking truth to yourself: “Just look what He’s done! He’s never forsaken me and I know He never will.” (Deuteronomy 31:8; Psalm 9:10; Psalm 37:25)

Your list of examples will be as unique as you are. But, even if you’re a brand new believer, you have instances to look back on, including the fact He called you out of darkness and welcomed you into His family. (Matthew 4:16; John 8:12; Ephesians 1:3-14) And the longer we walk with Him, the more extensive and varied our personal inventories become, as He does exceedingly more than all we can ask or imagine. (Ephesians 3:20)

May we be ever-faithful to recall and recount the Lord’s goodness.

I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will recount all of your wonderful deeds. I will be glad and exult in you; I will sing praise to your name, O Most High. (Psalm 9:1-2)

 

[1] We’d originally planned for them to come over earlier, “unless I went into labor”, which I did on the previously-scheduled date.