Y’all, my heart is so heavy this Mother’s Day weekend. As a mother, this weekend always makes me reflect on the things of motherhood – did I do a good job raising my boys? Will their memories of their childhood be pleasant ones?  Will they remember me with an abundance of wonderful memories when I make my journey Home? 

You know – standard Mom fare.

But, today, my heart is heavy for mothers that I do not know.  This week, I watched the tragedy of three families unfold before me; I am wounded for them. 

During the first part of the week, I was selected to sit as a juror on the trial of a young man who had inadvertently, but recklessly, caused the death of a young woman.  As much as my heart wanted to display the Grace and Mercy of God to him, I had to weigh only the evidence and cast my vote on that alone.  As I left that courtroom after the verdict was rendered and the young man led away in handcuffs, I had to walk past two grieving families.  The young woman’s mother stepped forward, hugging a photograph of her beautiful daughter to thank me even as the young man’s family glared with tears in their eyes; my heart broke in two.  There were no winners here – in this situation, everyone loses.  Without speaking, selfishly without offering words of comfort, I ducked my head, allowing my hair to fall in front of my face to hide my tears, pausing only briefly to offer a weak nod to her, and fled the courtroom. I could not face their pain in the midst of my own. I am thankful that Jesus is our Righteous Judge, and our Advocate before the Father; I, too, would stand convicted without His Intercession on my behalf.

 My prayer is that this young man, a precious creation of God regardless of his behavior and choices, comes to encounter the Living God and the transforming power of His Love.  I pray that the families of these children – to me, they are children – find a place of peace, forgiveness, and hope in Jesus Christ.  I will never forget them or their beloved children, and I will always, always pray for them.

Later in the week, my youngest son came home from school carrying the news that a classmate’s younger sister - 14 years old - had taken her own life as a result of bullying at school.  I don’t even have the words to describe the depth of the grief it placed in my heart. This poor girl…and her poor family.  I can’t even begin to imagine their pain.  I saw her picture on social media – she was beautiful.  What words could have been spoken and absorbed into her spirit to cause her to believe she wasn’t worthy of life?  Oh, sweet child of God, their words do not define you; His Word says you were fearfully and wonderfully made, precious and honored in His Sight – a child of the One True King.  I am so sorry that you were hurt; I’m so sorry that you doubted your beauty and your worth. My sincere hope is that those whose words so wounded you will come forward, repent before the Father and your family, and somehow justice will be done where there is no justice that will ever be enough. They, too, are just children. My heart hurts for them and their families as well.

Such a tragedy, such a loss. 

My friends, our world is hurting; our children are suffering and dying at the hands of one another. How sad it must make Father God to see how far we have fallen.  There is only one answer – Jesus.  We all need Jesus. 

“And I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart.”  Ezekiel 36:26

 

Sometimes I read things or see something on television that will just stay with me.  Usually, it’s useless information that might come in handy occasionally, say, during a trivia game. Occasionally, from the recesses of my memory, something will come to the surface at a seemingly random moment, and suddenly God is using it to reveal his heart. There is no random with God; He is all about design.

A long time ago, I was watching one of those medical shows on Discovery.  You know the type – where they show actual surgeries, and you have to close your eyes when they make incisions?  One of those (shudder!).  This one was about heart transplants.  A narrator was discussing the intricacies of the procedure, while we watched it take place. In this case, the donor and the recipient were in side by side operating rooms.  The narrator made the statement that the donor heart continues to beat for a few moments after it is harvested, as does the damaged heart of the recipient after its removal. He stated that if the two heart muscles are placed side by side, they continue to beat with their own, individual and unique rhythm. But, if the hearts are allowed to touch each other, almost instantly, the pulse of the weaker heart changes, aligning with the stronger heart, until they pulsate in matching syncopation, beating as one. How amazing is the creation of God? How like God to use a barely remembered television show to speak to me.

Yesterday, during our worship service at church, I was suddenly reminded of the show about these hearts, and I could see clearly the impact of worship on the hearts of God’s people.  How deeply we are loved by our Father! He desires so much the place of intimacy with us. When we reciprocate that love and desire, something incredible happens.  The Author of the Universe, the Ancient of Days, Majesty – draws near to His Creation, and allows His Heart to be touched by ours – and ours by His.  Our weaker, so very human hearts are enveloped by His, and as one they begin to beat in matching rhythm, as Father and Child dance.  Troubles fade away, worries are without power, fear is replaced by the peace that comes from being held secure in the arms of our Daddy.  What unmatched joy awaits within the Heart of God!

Beloved of God, your Father’s Heart longs for yours. He cherishes you and promises His Presence.  Worship isn’t about a posture, it’s not about your words, or whether or not you can carry a tune. There’s no need to wait until you’ve got it all together – God sees your mess and isn’t appalled by it; His Love is too great, His Mercies too deep. As a parent, there were times when my children were small, and they’d show up with sticky hands and dirty face, wanting a hug and a kiss. I didn’t see the mess; I saw my child whom I love so deeply, and I hugged them, kissing them without regard for their messiness.  Daddy God loves us so much deeper than that.

Worship isn’t a place, it’s not a program, there’s no formula, no pattern…worship is as individual and unique as our heartbeats. It doesn’t matter how it looks – what matters is that we allow our hearts to rise to touch the Heart of our Father.  It’s an act of opening your spirit to His, a dropping of walls, a stirring of faith, an act of the will. We worship because He is worthy of worship and adoration. He responds because of His great Love for us.  Face to face; Heart to heart; Father to child.

Precious one – your Daddy is waiting. He has a dance reserved just for you.  What are you waiting for? 

It began like any other morning.  Alarm screaming in my ear, followed by the requisite 5 or 6 taps on the snooze button.  Arising finally to whines, mumbled complaints, and general grump. And that was just from me. Shortly, I awaken my son, Gigantor, to whines, mumbled complaints, and general grump – his reprise of his mother’s lack of morning personness. He is his mother’s son. Half an hour later, coffee in my hand, breakfast in his, we head out the door to school. Like any other morning, we giggled at Laugh USA, chatted a little, quick kiss, wishes for a good day, and Gigantor was out of the car headed inside. 

One last wave, and I headed toward work.  As I came to a stop at the intersection, I noticed a new sign posted just beyond the sidewalk.  I looked, blinked – not quite trusting my still sleep-addled brain to be reading it correctly.  My jaw dropped open as I read it again, ensuring that I had, indeed, read it correctly.  Posted before me, mockingly, was a sign – nay, a banner – announcing the soon coming of a play to the Oxford Center for Performing Arts….a play entitled, “Menopause. The Musical.”

I believe something like, “Wha? Wha?” was escaping from my agape mouth, but before I could regain my senses, a horn honked lightly behind me urging me to move through the intersection. I didn’t glance at the driver behind me, but I’m certain it was a man.  A woman – a sister – would have understood my pause. 

Menopause. 

The Musical. 

I don’t know what to think.  I don’t know how they’re going to pull it off.  But I’m sure as heck going to go and see it for myself!  I think I wouldn’t miss it for the life of me.  For just a moment, I thought that perhaps someone had written a play just for me – I love musicals…I love stage productions..but I don’t love menopause.  Or, more precisely, perimenopause. Technically, I’m still 6 months out from being a bonafide member of the big M society. That’s neither here nor there.  If Menopause is anything like her little sister Perimenopause, we’re going to have issues. 

I wonder…will the ushers hand out paper fans along with the playbill – or will the playbill be fan-folded?  Will there be copious chocolate at intermission?  Will ice water be handed out along with blankets? Will the local Heating and Air guys be onsite earlier in the day to ensure that the AC units are all operating properly, Freon is topped off, and thermostats are set to Antarctica? Perhaps anti-itch cream will be offered by concessions girls, along with magnifying make-up mirrors, hot wax samples, and indigestion aids.  I’m certain that Xanax in Pez dispensers personalized to resemble the face of each theatre goer’s husband would be a welcome addition…I can imagine the glee to be had at flicking their little heads back with a perfectly manicured thumbnail. Ah, the joy…………………………………………………sigh………………..Oh, ahem.

Pardon me. I digress.

I don’t know how they’re going to do it, but I’m going to see for myself.  Comedy, yes...I can see the humor in menopause...when I’m not in the midst of a hot flash, or the middle of a sleepless night, or a mood swing, or skin clawing full body itch…but any other time, yes.  Menopause makes me laugh regularly. Mostly in a maniacal fashion following a comment to my husband such as, “Go ahead.  Fall asleep”.  But I do laugh. 

Musical, I’m not so sure about.  I have yet to feel like bursting into song.  Flames, yes.  Song, no.

We shall see.  A few hundred women at varying stages of the M society will be there judging.  They better hope it’s good.  Or they better have a LOT of chocolate.  And wine.   

So, about a hundred years ago, around Easter 2000, I was pondering one day.  I’m pretty prone to pondering, and sometimes my pondering gets put onto paper.  On this day in 2000, I was pondering the crucifixion of Jesus.  I was thinking about what it must have been like for the legions of angels who had known Him since their creation.  I imagined a conversation between those angels and Father God during the crucifixion.  Now, keep in mind – this is my imagination, and probably not scriptural. Just how I imagine it might have gone…..

 

Can you hear the angels asking, “Why? Why, Jehovah, must Your Son die?  They’re humans, Lord, so full of sin! How, O God, can Satan win?  Let us go and take Him down, bring Him home, replace His Crown!”

Can you hear God answer, “Be silent! Wait! It is only their sin that I hate. Don’t you see that on this day, by His death, I’ve made a Way?”

“But, Lord, how? We don’t understand.  How can this be in Your Plan?”

“You see, My Son is a spotless Lamb. Remember My Promises to Abraham?”

“Why, yes, Lord, but You promised a King – One would come and His praises they’d sing!”

“That’s true, I promised they would be freed, but first, as a Sacrifice, my Son must bleed; for their sins must be atoned by shed blood – His Blood alone.”

“But, God, behold! Your Son is dead – a crown of thorns upon His Head.  He cried out to You before He died; why didn’t You rush to be by His Side?”

“Because My Plan is not complete. Soon, you’ll see My most awesome feat!”

“But, Lord, they’ve laid Him in a tomb; it’s dark and cold: a death-filled room!  They’ve sealed the opening with a stone. Oh, He’s in there all alone!”

Smiling, God said, “Be patient, wait – you will see I’m not too late!”

One day…two days…, “Gabriel, come!  Go and gently awaken My Son.  Roll the stone completely away, and when His disciples come looking say, ‘He is not here, but risen. See – the place where He lay is now empty.’     Tell them, ‘He’s living! He is not dead! Go and seek Him, forget your dread!  God’s Redemptive Plan is done – He’s resurrected your Lord, His Son!”

“Holy!” the angels began to cry.

"Holy, the Lamb Who came to die!  Worthy, the Lamb Who was slain, Who shed His Blood to wash man’s stain!”

God smiled and said, “Come Home, My Son. I am well pleased, My Will You’ve done.”

Then Father and Son in joy embrace.  They’ve given the Cross to the human race!

 

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, Who was and is and is to come!”

 

“Aren’t you the little one that hid in my arms afraid of the thunder?  Are these the little hands that held so tight to mine?  Didn’t we both agree you’d never grow up, and now here we are and here you go? Of all the things I want to say, the thing you really need to know is, I believe in you. Everything you are. Everything you are becoming. I believe in you.” (Steven Curtis Chapman)

Tomorrow, my firstborn son – the child who made me a mother – will turn 21 years old.  I have to be honest and say that this week has been very emotional for me.  I can’t tell you how many times it has hit me and I’ve dissolved into tears.  I’m not sure if all moms go through this when their first child becomes an adult – a full-fledged, legal-in-the-eyes-of-the-world (and the law) actual ADULT. I’m not sure what is causing the emotional upheaval for me – he isn’t getting married, isn’t moving away from home…nothing much is changing except a number…so why does it feel so very much like EVERYTHING is changing?  Why do I feel as if I’m losing my boy? 

I guess, technically, I am losing my boy-son and gaining a man-son. I’ve never been the mother of a man before; I’m not sure I know how one mothers a man.  What if he doesn’t need me for advice anymore?  What if he does? Will I know what to say? I remember asking myself similar questions 21 years ago as I watched my belly grow with his new little life.  What if?  But, what IF?  I was terrified then, and I think I’m terrified now.  Then, of what I was gaining, and now, of what I might be losing.  It makes me sad to think that, as he ages, he won’t need me in the same way he has in the past.  Oh, over the years, as he has grown toward this milestone birthday, he has become increasingly independent – but something about this birthday feels different, transitional. I don’t think I like it. 

“So many prayers we’ve prayed; so many dreams to get to this moment. Now this is where we stay, while you go change the world. But I’ll be where I have always been – up in the stands, cheering you on, and singing this song. The song the very God Who made you has been singing all along, ‘I believe in you. Yeah, I believe in you.  So spread your wings and fly on the winds of knowing I always believe in you.’”

Ah, this man who is my son.  I’m so proud of him.  He has given me more gray hairs that I can count; the worry wrinkles on my brow are my tattoos of motherhood.  I haven’t been a perfect mother, which is perfect because he wasn’t always the perfect son.  Despite his missteps, occasional rebellion, and a thousand other gray hair and wrinkle producing behaviors, he was and always has been a good kid.  From a very young age, he decided that music was his future, and set his face like flint in that direction, learning as many instruments as he could get his hands on, teaching himself how to play them.  He practiced for hours in his room, door closed, over and over again until it was just so.  Then he would come out and play it for me.  He didn’t know that I had already been listening, ear pressed to his door, silently crouched in the hallway, unseen and unheard, my heart singing along.  He was – and is – dogged in his pursuit of perfection.  I am his biggest fan. 

“And when you rise and when you fall, I’ll still believe in you. Just close your eyes and hear me calling, ‘I believe in you. Oh, I believe in you!”

From his very first performance in front of a crowd – he was 8 or 9 years old, and he played Third Day’s “God of Wonders”, he has always been comfortable on a stage, in front of people. He has always had this intrinsic ability to draw in a crowd; to engage them, to encourage them to join him in song – or in worship. He can lead the people of God into worship, because he has known the place of worship. Even on the few occasions he has performed secular songs in various venues, he still interacts with the crowd and ensures that they are not just observers, but participants in the music.

His dreams are slowly but surely coming to fruition.  He is becoming known in ever-widening circles of musical-type people.  He is centered and based in the amazing worship team at our church.  That is his primary focus, as it should be, but he also now travels to lend his talents and skills to other worship leaders in surrounding areas, and even other states.  I’m so PROUD that he has chosen to pursue the Christian music industry as a singer/songwriter/worship leader.  His is a high calling, given by God at a very young age, and I have no doubt God will complete the work He began in my boy. 

If time shows that his dreams need to be reexamined, perhaps redefined a bit, I will still believe in him, wholeheartedly. That’s sort of my job as his mother, right?

Young mommy, cherish your sleepless nights, little toothless grins – or if your children are a little older, love the busy schedules, the endless homework, even the rolling eyes.  It all passes so quickly, and before you know it – before you’re ready – you’ll be facing a milestone birthday…the last single digit…the first “teen” year…DRIVER’S LICENSES…the first 20…and then, like me, 21.

It’s funny, as I began typing this two days ago, I truly was worried that I would become a part of his childhood, laid aside like his toys – another trapping of childhood no longer needed.  Today, as I pondered the way I could possibly end this Blahg with so many questions still remaining in my heart, my phone rang.  It was my man-son calling to tell me that his car had broken down about 40 miles from home as he traveled to play with our worship team at another church, and he didn’t know what to do.  I listened as he griped, as he told me I wasn’t helping with the advice I was giving him and I pointed out that it was because I was telling him what he needed to hear & do, not what he wanted to hear & do.  I was frustrated with him, and he with me….and soon I realized – yep…I’m still his mom.  A couple of numbers won’t change that.  There will always be help needed, advice to be given, and rescues to be orchestrated.  So, in true Mom fashion, I donned my cape (glad I hadn’t yet stored it away like a pressed rose!), secured he and his equipment a ride home with loving church family, and explained how we would handle getting him to a commitment early tomorrow morning.  Then, I gave him the phone number to Roadside Assistance.  You go, boy-man! You call that Tow Truck! J

I love how God answers our questions, and calms our uncertainties. I’m pretty sure He giggled as He orchestrated THIS rescue of this mom’s worried heart. I can almost hear Him whisper, “Oh, he will need you for a while yet…watch this…” Shhhhh…don’t tell my boy-man that I giggled along. 

Happy Birthday, Son.  You will always, always be my baby, and I will always, always be your Mom….even when you don’t want me to be.  I love you. 

“Physical training is good, but training for Godliness is much better, promising benefits in this life and in the life to come.”  1 Timothy 4:8

 

Reading that Scripture set me to pondering.  I don’t know about you, but the older I get, the more like a toad I feel.  The metabolism is slower, the weight is harder to lose, and the chins.  Let’s not even talk about the chins.  Okay, let’s talk about them a little..I have this no-so-irrational fear that one day I’m going to sneeze and my chins are going to inflate like a big old bullfrog.  Children are afraid their eyes will pop out when they sneeze.  Not me. I’m afraid of the chin balloon.

Getting older stinks.  My knees make noises, my back aches, my stomach seemingly tries to devour itself with acid, gravity has a ridiculous hold on body parts unmentionable (this is a family oriented Blahg after all).  Folks, I can hear myself wrinkling.

You know, in your car or your home, when a thermostat stops working properly, you replace it, yes?  I’m fairly certain my thermostat has gone out in this traitorous old body of mine.  One minute I’m chilly…the next, my hair is on fire. What is the deal??  Where exactly is this faulty thermostat located, and where can I buy a new one?  Jiminy Cricket – why is there no middle ground here?! 

What, you ask, does any of that have to do with the scripture posted at the top of this page?  Everything, I tell you. Everything.  I don’t LIKE being a toad.  I don’t LIKE getting older and dealing with the aches and pains, weakness and fatigue, sags and wrinkles of an aging body. I LOATHE the hot flashes.  My husband might tell you I have mood swings on top of all of that….he MIGHT…if he weren’t afraid of me…

Yeah, getting older stinks, and if you’re anything like me, you’re finding it increasingly difficult to manage “physical training”, or at the very least, you’ve altered the way you train your body to accommodate new weaknesses and pains.  That’s okay.  Getting older is part of living; we gain wisdom as we gain mileage.  I’m okay (ish) with that. 

Exercising your body is necessary to good heart health, increasing energy, regulating mood, lowering cholesterol, and strengthening aging muscles, among other things, yes.  But, the benefit is limited to this life – such a short time, really.  As the Scripture above tells us, it is training in Godliness that will benefit us not only here in our daily lives, but also in eternity. It is this training in Godliness that reveals to us the mind and heart of God toward us.  It is this training that steadies the heart, gives peace to the mind, and encourages the spirit.  It is this training that floods us with joy, fills us with promise, and works through us with power.  It is this training that allows us to become conduits of the Grace, Mercy, and Love of God to the world around us.  Training…what a funny word to use for an act of Love….we “train”(spend time in His Word, spend time in His Presence) because we love vertically – we love God, we desire to know Him as much as He can possibly be known this side of eternity…and, conversely, we love horizontally because we “train” vertically…we love people, we desire that they come to know Him so we “train” in order to be ministers – ADministering the Kingdom of God to the world around us.  This is the training that is eternal. 

Getting older stinks.  That’s just truth.  But physical age and ability mean nothing in the Kingdom.  It’s all about the heart of His People – toward Him, toward others. We learn because we love; we love because we’ve learned – and we do it all because He first loved us.  It’s pretty simple, really.  My body may fail me, but my Lord never will.  Because of His Faithfulness, I desire to be faithful. And so I train myself in Godliness, desiring the benefits that it brings for myself – and for others. 

Speaking of hot flashes – they are of God, you know.  See Revelation 3:16….apparently, there’s not supposed to BE any middle ground. 

Dang it. 

What shall I talk about today?  My brain is completely empty of ideas.  So, I sit here typing random words, watching the letters push the cursor across the blank page, hoping that inspiration comes. Funny how I long so much to write, yet struggle terribly with coming up with subject matter.  And the letters continue to push the cursor, and the brain continues to be blank.  I think about my every day, and how little time I have for just sitting here doing this.  Probably busy-ness is the culprit for my lack of creativity; I’m sure there’s a legitimate reason – I simply don’t have time to sit down and be creative unless I take the time.  Even now, I’m thinking of all the things that I should be up doing instead.  The things of life that are necessary for the every days to continue uninterrupted:  Laundry, dishwashing, cleaning…..the mundane tasks of living that get in the way of the things we’d rather be doing. 

I wonder how much of our lives are spent that way?  I wonder if God intends us to live in the mundane of the every days? I really think the answer to both of those questions is no. Oh, I know that God understands that every days are vital in our lives – we work, we do our chores, we go to school, we eat and sleep and do it all again tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.  I don’t think He is troubled by that.  But I do think He has more for us.  I think His Design for us is much more that we can imagine. 

It’s funny.  The two paragraphs above were started a week ago, early one morning. Then, as usual, I had to start my day, and never returned to finish my thoughts. Over the weekend, we had a guest speaker at church, and she answered my questions above.  She said, “You’ve got to learn to stand in the Glory, experience the Glory, yet still function in the earth.  Every day should be a supernatural occurrence.” ~Ruth Mangiacapre

Then she shared from Ephesians 5:15-20 which says, “So be careful how you live.  Don’t live like fools, but like those who are wise.  Make the most of every opportunity in these evil days.  Don’t act thoughtlessly, but understand what the Lord wants you to do.  Don’t be drunk with wine, because that will ruin your life. Instead, be filled with the Holy Spirit, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, and making music to the Lord in your hearts.  And give thanks for everything to God the Father in the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (NLT)

It isn’t easy.  We are, after all, bound by time; it’s just one of the complications of life this side of eternity. But it’s possible.  It’s even practical.  Think about it with me.  With man it’s not possible, but with God nothing is impossible, right (Matthew 19:26)?  In Him, we live and move and have our being, correct (Acts 17:28)?  We know these Scriptures.  They are as familiar to us as is John 3:16.  Have we truly considered them, though, as our means for living out our daily lives? Try to follow me here: If nothing is impossible with God, shouldn’t everything we do be “with God”?  If we live and move and have our being “in Him” – are we ever apart from Him?  Of course not.  So, if we are at all times “in Him”, then it follows that everything we do is “with God”. Do you see how those two Scriptures intertwine with each other, and with our daily lives?  Now, I know I’m no Bible scholar, and I’m probably grossly over-simplifying two very deep and meaningful Scriptures. I’ve often heard it said that the Word of God is like an onion, and you peel back layer after layer after layer as you delve deeper into each Scripture’s meaning….so bear with me while we look at the outer layers. You okay with simple?  Good.  Me, too.  I like simple.  It fits me.  J

I know. I KNOW.  Easier said than done.  You’re so not telling me anything I don’t already know. Let me tell you, though.  I know people.  People who live each day of their lives in just this way.  Full of the Spirit of God, walking in Kingdom Authority, accomplishing amazing things for God – and live out their every days getting done all the things that life demands of them.  Actually, now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure that a few of them are like Dash from The Incredibles, able to move at speeds that aren’t visible to the naked eye. 

Oh sure, as with anything, there’s a learning curve to this lifestyle.  It’s a shift in our thinking, a setting in place a list of priorities, perhaps scheduling out our days or weeks. How we accomplish it will look different for each one of us, simply because our every days are so radically different.  How easy it would be if there were a formula to it.  We don’t serve a formulaic God, however, so life in His Service won’t be spelled out that way.  “After all, He’s not a tame Lion…but He is good.” I think that is pretty much the crux of the matter.  He is good.  He desires more for our lives. He desires that we accomplish great things for Him as well as accomplish the duties of our every days.  Now, lest you worry that a “great thing for God” only consists of a trip to Myanmar to feed orphans or something, keep in mind that God tells us that, “WHATEVER you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord rather than for people (Col. 3:23).” And “I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it for Me (Matt. 25:40).”  Something else our guest speaker said this weekend, “We deal with our lives as days, but God deals in them as seasons.”  No matter what season you happen to be in today, there is a purpose for it, and God still desires you to do great things for Him.  Whether it is cleaning a tiny little bottom & wiping a runny nose before it drips down into a snaggle-toothed smile, or laying hands on the sick & watching them recover – the season you are in is God’s Design for your every days right now.  They won’t always look this way; seasons change, and the tasks that we are called to do each day change with them. Treasure your season. Live and move and BE in Him, because there is nothing impossible as long as you are with Him. You ARE accomplishing great things – even the tiny things are great when they’re done for Him and with Him.

Authors Note: Yes.  Sometimes my Blahg meanders along with my mind, and what began as one topic may swing into something different before I’m finished with it.  My fingers follow my mind, just as the letters follow the cursor….or do the letters push the cursor?  Either way, when you read my Blahg, read it as a conversation – we’re just talking, you & I.  Just as a conversation flows from topic to topic, bending, twisting, turning and returning, so you’ll find that my Blahg often does the same, and I write exactly as if I were just talking to you.  I hope it’s not all too confusing.