Sylvia Basham

Blue Ribbon Best

2012-01-13T18:52:00.007-05:00

Remember from my previous post that I like to set some “reasonably attainable” goals for my homeschooling and for other areas of my life. But I also think that we should have other loftier goals that will challenge us to grow that are not necessarily reasonably attainable, but likely attainable only through the strength that God gives.

With that in mind, I wanted to clue you in to a few bars that need to be raised in my life, call them resolutions if you like, but they are gifts that I plan to give my family this year.

The first gift I seek to give my family this year is giving my husband and my kids my best. I want to earn my first place blue ribbon in the category of putting my family first when I'm doling out my time, my talents and other resources.

Surely none of you moms have ever been guilty of being better prepared for co-ops or church ministry opportunities than you would be for your very own household or your very own school, but that is something I am still overcoming by God’s grace.

I’m far more accountable to people outside my home sometimes. When my children were younger and I rushed them or brushed them off to complete tasks for others, I recognized {not quite} immediately that something wasn’t right. It’s been a process and a choice that I have to make over and over, day after day, year after year.

Giving my best to my family does not mean I must give less than my best elsewhere in other activities. I still work with ministry outside the confines of my home and have obligations and responsibilities that I’ve committed to doing, but now those commitments are relegated to their rightful place in my schedule, which is after my responsibilities to my family are met. Sometimes it means getting up {far, far} earlier than I think is natural, but those whom God calls, he also equips.

Giving my family my best means I need to ask God how to structure my day to assure that my family gets the investment of the best of my time and talents that they deserve. If I’m giving my family the gift of my best, then I will devote time to organizing my calendar, my teaching, the care of my household and all other activities to His glory.

1 Cor. 10.31 So, whether you eat or drink or {encourage your husband or teach math or teach history or cook meals or do laundry}, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.

Reasonably Attainable

2012-01-05T18:46:00.008-05:00

I’m not much into making New Year’s Resolutions because well, you know, they’re often pretty lofty and I set myself up for failure. I don’t like failure. So I’ve come to the conclusion that any goals I set must be reasonably attainable.

For instance, I will not set a goal of running four marathons this year because that would require, oh, what’s the word…. exercise! There I said it! Quick, somebody go get me a piece of chocolate to wash my mouth out with. Just kidding. I do exercise. Sometimes. Well, it’s been a while….but that’s not the point of this post, now is it?

I want to be a joyful homeschooler so I think I do need to have some type of goals. If I aim for the stars, then I might only hit the moon, but if I aim for nothing, I’ll hit that every time. So I set some goals.

And I’ll share some of my resolutions that are reasonably attainable because they might be for you too.

For 2012, with my homeschooling, I resolve to:

1) At least once a week, I will start school later than 8.30 am.

2) At least twice a month, we will have an unplanned meal in the car while on the go.

3) On most days, I will have school in the living room or dining room instead of the designated school room.

4) Every week in 2012, my homeschooling experience will be more joyful because I will rearrange my lesson plans to accommodate the lessons we missed the prior week.

5) For a more joyful homeschooling year in 2012, I will make sure to compare, whenever possible, the progress of my children in each subject with the progress of their friends, especially if they are not homeschoolers.

Those are a few of my easily attainable goals. I promise that I’ll keep every. single. one. of them.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55.8-9

But I do believe that there also should be some goals that challenge me, something that is not “reasonably” attainable but only attainable through God’s strength.

That’s why, even though Christmas and the gift-giving season are over, my commitment this year is to keep giving my kids gifts throughout the year. Check back in the next couple of days and I’ll tell you about the gifts I have up my sleeve for my family this year.

Do you have some goals for your homeschooling that will be reasonably attainable in 2012?

An Extravagant Gift

2011-12-14T16:47:00.008-05:00

Fourth grade was a long time ago for me. Forty-one years ago. But it wasn’t so long ago that I don’t remember the gift that year. The year was 1970 and Go Go Girls (not to be confused with GaGa) were all the rage with their long straight hair, miniskirts and tall white boots.

It was also the fall of that year that my dad was sent to prison. Moonshining did not carry a heavy penalty but it was a criminal act to not pay taxes on his sales, so my dad was sentenced to six months in a minimum security facility. Six months of his life meant six months away from his wife and three little girls, of which I was the oldest at the age of nine.

I’m sure my mom was more than a little anxious about how her family would survive. Our house had three rooms, no indoor plumbing, no telephone, a coal heater and was miles up a “holler” away from civilization and even an hour away from her closest relatives. Life was already hard, but now she wouldn’t have any help.

Our basic needs were met and I’m sure government assistance played a part in that. As a little girl, I had no clue the hardship because we were loved and I can’t remember ever being hungry. But it was late fall, and Christmas was on its way.

Honestly, I don’t remember too much about that event in the life of our family, but I do recall getting a huge package that year under the tree. Have you ever had a big package? I can only imagine my eyes as a nine year old, unwrapping a three foot tall very fashionable Go Go girl doll. It seemed so extravagant.

It wasn’t until I was grown that I found out where our gifts came from that year. Remember my dad was sent to prison? For him to be sent to prison, there had to be a prosecutor, someone who presented a body of evidence to prove my dad’s guilt. The prosecuting attorney compiled the evidence and convinced the judge and jury that my dad had indeed broken the law. Someone had to pay.

As an adult I was talking about remembering that extravagant gift I received that year and my mom reminded the information that had somehow escaped me as a child. The very one who ensured my dad was convicted, the prosecutor, also made sure there was a way for our family to celebrate Christmas that year.

The prosecutor’s motivation for doing that was never revealed to me. Even though I grew up and ended up working at the sheriff’s office at the courthouse (oh the irony for someone with my family background), I never got to meet him. Whatever the reason for blessing our family that year, he truly was a blessing, giving us three little girls such extravagant gifts.

And now as an adult looking back on that event, it is to me on some level a picture of what God did for us when He gave us such an extravagant gift in sending His Son Jesus to us.

God, who is holy and perfect, presents the Standard to which none of us could measure up. Evidence of our sin and guilt is apparent when held up to the light of His holiness and righteousness. We have no righteousness in front of Him. Because of our sin and guilt, a sentence has to be served. Someone had to pay for the wrongs that we have done.

Just as the prosecuting attorney sealed my dad’s conviction, then made a way for the little girls to have gifts, so God, whose very existence and character have convicted us, has given a gift that we celebrate each Christmas season. And it truly is an extravagant gift. A precious son who was born to take on the all the sin of all of us in the world - crushing, painful sin that separated Him for a period of time from His father.

As with all human analogies, this one breaks down pretty quickly, so I don’t know if I would even call it an analogy, maybe just a few parallels. It’s just that the generosity of the prosecutor was an act that reminded me how much more God has done that for us.

And if that’s not clear to you, let me continue. Because He is holy and righteous and because we are not, we need an extravagant gift of grace to be able to have relationship with God. Each Christmas those of us who are Christians celebrate the arrival of that package, that extravagant gift. I’m sure you all know that Jesus’ birth is the reason for celebrating Christmas. But what was the reason for His birth?

The reason for His birth was to bridge that gap between God’s holiness and our sinfulness. The payment came in the form of Jesus, not simply by his birth, but decades later from His sacrificial death on a wooden cross to shed blood that would pay for our sins. All sins that have been committed, are now being committed and will be committed. He paid for it already.

And that payment, that extravagant gift, leaves us with a glaring decision. We need to decide what to do with that extravagant gift. I’m sure when I received that 3 foot tall Go Go doll that I didn’t ignore it and I certainly didn’t ask to return it. I’m sure my eyes were wide and that I accepted that gift. I used that gift as it was intended.

I’ve done the same and accepted the extravagant gift that God has offered. A verse that will be familiar to many of you and that many of us learned growing up speaks of this gift. Probably even many of your children know it. It’s one of the things we used to whisper to our kids when we tucked them into bed.

John 3.16 For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son that whosoever believes in Him would not perish but have everlasting life.

What a gift! And also what a decision you must make as you celebrate this season. You must decide if you will accept this gift of being rescued. Will you choose to believe that He’s given His life and choose to accept that gift so that you can spend eternity with God?

I pray that is your choice. And I pray that if you have already accepted this wondrous gift that you will join me in telling others of this extravagant gift. Because the gift of Jesus is far more precious than any other gift you could give your children, your relatives, your neighbors or your friends, and it is for sure more precious than any Go Go doll could ever be, no matter if she is 3 ft tall!

Upon Every Remembrance

2011-11-21T20:25:00.009-05:00

In no particular order: My wedding day. The births and adoption of my children. My dad. My son, Jonathan. My mom becoming a Christian when I was eleven, thus the family being introduced to church. Walking from our previous house in Youngsville across the street to Hillridge Farms pulling my (then preschooler, now adult) little girls in a red wagon. Being a soccer mom/drama class mom/volleyball mom/basketball mom/football mom.

“One Thousand Gifts” is author Ann Voskamp’s designation for “counting your blessings.” In her book of the same title, Ann tells of finding herself in circumstances where she must choose to be grateful when gratitude might be the furthest thought from her mind. Making this choice leads her to reflect daily on the gifts for which she is thankful. From the everyday 513. Boys jiggling blue Jell-O to the extraordinary 783. Forgiveness of a sister, she lists the gifts one by one.

Of course, reading this wondrous prose that Ann has penned prompts me to reflect (not nearly as much as I should) on the gifts that have permeated my life. One of the most precious blessings that increases in value as I increase in age (remember I’m fifty now) is that of sweet memories.

Just as Paul writes to the Roman colony of Philippi in Philippians 1.3 “I thank my God upon every remembrance of you.” so do I have many people and events who have permanent reservations in my memory. Well, as permanent as anything can be in a temporary earthly home. I know someday those memories I cherish will fade, but now they are vivid. And for that I am very thankful.

Remembering Sunday afternoon hikes in the mountains of West Virginia with my dad puts a smile on my face. He passed away when I was twenty-two. Just hearing the name Jonathan causes a grin to grace my face, but also a tear to well up in my eye. I remember my son who would have been giving me six-year old hugs today had he lived. I thank my God upon every remembrance.

Making (savory and delicious) mudpies with my sisters up the holler when we were little. My husband, Michael, putting his arm around my waist for the first time when we were at the mall, making me blush. My mom stitching every seam in my wedding dress, then nearly being late for my wedding because she decided at the last minute to make herself a skirt to wear. Meeting my in-laws for the first time and simultaneously being teased but immediately welcomed. Upon every remembrance, I thank God.

If gratitude has been an elusive pattern in your life, then have I got good news for you. November is a month in which our entire nation is reminded to enter into Thanksgiving, so you’ll have many reminders. And may I suggest that you start your own list of One Thousand Gifts and maybe you can begin that list by recalling sweet moments thanking God upon every remembrance.

To Be a Mommy

2010-10-08T12:28:00.004-04:00

(Article written for the MOPS of North Wake October 2010 newsletter)

“Mom, what does it feel like to be a mommy?” Four-year old Sarah sincerely looked up at me. Holding her chubby little fingers in one hand and five-year old Candace’s hand in my other hand as we walked along, tears welled up unexpectedly in my eyes, threatening to spill at any moment.

How does a mom answer a question like that? In a way that a four-year old can understand? As the current cliché goes, my heart was full in that moment.

Could I possibly explain how I often feel like my children are connected to my very soul? Could I convey the depth of my love, so deep that I can’t even seem to comprehend the complexity of it? It’s a love that truly knows no boundaries.

Would she understand that my life is no longer my own and that I’m thoroughly thrilled about that? I have lovingly laid my life subserviently but willingly on the altar of motherhood. Unless she comprehends that half of the equation, then she won’t understand my occurrences of selfishly grabbing the sacrificed life back before once again laying it down.

How will I expound emotions and feelings that are at opposite ends of the spectrum? Overjoyed one minute, then stressed and facing feelings of incompetence the next.

The only answer I had for Sarah that day as I looked down at her and smiled: “It’s the most wonderful feeling I’ve ever known.” It was an honest answer. And a short answer. It was enough for a four year old.

All of you who are mothers will understand my dilemma in that moment and my inadequate response. There is just no utterance that will encapsulate how it feels to be a mommy.

The only way you truly know how it feels to be a mommy is to….well…..be a mommy. Sarah is now married and due to give birth to her first child, my first grandchild, in January. (He’s a boy.)

Wait a minute! Didn’t I just say she was four? Oh, yeah, that was yesterday. Today she is just weeks away from finding the answer to her question.

She will get to experience MOPS in a way that she couldn’t when she was a preschooler in MOPPETS in 1994 or as a helper in the classes for many years thereafter.

She will know fully what Momology is, and with simply a smile between you and her, the common bond of motherhood ensures that you will completely get each other.
She will find that being a mommy gives her an instant community, especially in a MOPS group where the binding of mothering leaves little room for our differences to come between us.

I’m so excited for all you who are joining us this MOPS year, just as I’m excited for Sarah. You’ll make friends so you won’t have to journey the mothering path alone. You will encourage each other. You will challenge each other.

You’ll hear speakers who will teach you more about the practical aspects of your path as well as pointing you to spiritual hope and purpose.

As for Sarah, she will finally know what all moms at MOPS already know. She will know, just like you know, the unspeakable joy, the incomprehensible love, the experiences that cannot be conveyed with mere words. She will know, just like you know, just like I know, exactly what it feels like to be a mommy.

Where Dreams Come True

2010-07-02T09:05:00.011-04:00

A real vacation! Not the kind where the family tags along on a business trip. My husband finally got to take a real vacation! We decided on Disney World, Where Dreams Come True, the sister park to Disneyland, The Happiest Place on Earth.

We had a delightful week in May visiting all the parks. Scoring the Disney dining plan for free was quite the bonus! All seemed right with the world.

Until he got the email on Thursday night. That email…the one from his office that announced his department was being dissolved and that there would be layoffs. Since my husband was the head of his department, and had not been privy to the planning of this development, he knew right away what that meant.

Enjoying our last day at Disney was a goal that seemed easy at times, elusive at others. (But did I mention the dining plan? Two meals plus two snacks per person provided each day, just for the ordering. I don’t think we’ll ever go to Disney again without it. The Strawberry Shortcake Sundae at Mrs. Pott’s Cupboard went a long way towards alleviating anxiety.)

Questions, though, were at the forefront of our minds. Kind of important questions like: When will this change take effect? When will we get the last paycheck? What other opportunities are available at this stage of life? Will we need to move for work? Are there any other expenses we can cut?

We had to wait until the following week when we returned to NC to find out some of the answers. Walk faster….Mrs. Pott’s Cupboard is just around the corner.

There were some questions, however, to which we unequivocally knew the answers: Do we still love each other? Is our family healthy and together? Do we have a supportive network of friends and family? Do we have freedom to make choices for the good of our family? Is God still God?

So much unknown loomed before us, but so much of the known was looming larger.

These were not exactly the dreams we were hoping would come true when we mapped our life’s journey. Our plan was much more stable and predictable, and would give us a measure of security.

Now we don’t have that. Fortunately, another job offer has been received, and although it is in the same general field, it is an entirely different type of job. It’s a job that may not provide the consistency we’re accustomed to having, and it might not have a predictable and steady income. It might not give us security we crave.

But….we live in America! We live in a country where dreams come true.
We have options. They might not always be ones we like, but there are options that we have the freedom to choose nonetheless.

Sometimes those options look like an explosion to rock our little world. Sometimes, though, the option is a blessing in disguise where the potential is enormous.

Will this be an option where dreams come true? It’s inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. We have been blessed beyond that which we deserve and our dreams for the things that really matter have already been realized.

Philippians 4.19

And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.

But How Will I Live?

2010-06-21T21:41:00.000-04:00

“Mom, how will I die?” Joshua, then barely five years old, asked as I was tucking him into bed. With all the honesty and confidence a startled mom could muster, I replied, “I don’t know.”

(Before you are concerned about one so young worrying about dying, just know that our family had recently held death in our hands so it was heavy on his mind.)

Snuggling even closer and not wanting to leave it at that, especially at bedtime, I continued the conversation. “You know, Josh, there’s no way you can really know how you’re going to die, but there is something more important about life that you can decide. You get to choose how you will live.”

I went on to explain how none of us usually have the choice about how we die, but the choice about how we will live is completely ours.

Will I live my life for fun and pleasure, for that which seemingly brings me a measure of happiness? Sometimes I do. Sometimes I’d rather sit and watch Survivor than do anything productive.

Sometimes I’d rather sit and stare out the window watching the chickens (now doesn’t that sound quaint) than do the work that is on my kitchen counter. Yes, sometimes I’m lazy.

Sometimes I ignore issues with my kids because addressing those things will require time and thought (and prayer!) on my part. Sometimes I pay the consequences of that choice.

Sometimes I’d rather stay at home all day, avoiding any meaningful interactions with people outside my family. Relationships with other people can get pretty messy. Sometimes.

Most of the time, though, I remember that I live my life for a higher purpose, a purpose given to me by God. So most of the time, I will push through the tedious tasks on my schedule for the day, because I choose to have joy in serving my family.

Most of the time I will realize that I’ve been watching the chickens too long and go do the dishes and even cook for my family.

Most of the time I will stop whatever I am doing to instruct or encourage one of my children. Most of the time I reap the benefits of that choice.

Most of the time I will choose to intentionally invest in the lives of others, to volunteer, to get involved with society in general, even if it gets messy. Most of the time I’m the one who is more blessed by that investment.

Death - be it by water, fire, cancer, car accident, crime victim, whatever - it’s not really up to me. But how will I live? How will you live? That is completely a choice each of us will make for ourselves.

Galatians 2.20 I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

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Does Anyone Know?

2010-06-14T08:14:00.005-04:00

(A guest post for the blog at Re:Vision North Carolina)

Walking through my local big box store, I see the United States flag all around. Is it really “what so proudly we hailed” if it’s in the form of a bikini top or swim trunks? At $5, I did have to buy my son some swim trunks. I figured they were colorful and I could easily spot him in the crowd. Seeing all the flag paraphernalia, though, made me wonder.

Does anyone know what is significant about June 14? Anyone? Anyone? Ok, well, it’s not usually a day off work or anything, but it is one of the observances I learned about as a kid. It’s Flag Day!

I remember spending significant time in elementary social studies (a few weeks is significant time in elementary school) learning about the flag: appropriate handling, appropriate display, appropriate storage, and appropriate disposal. Education about the flag included the history and a few legends.

One particular legendary quote remains somehow tucked in the crevices of my grey matter. From the poem Barbara Frietchie by John Greenleaf Whittier:

“Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, But spare your country's flag," she said.

Purportedly, 96 year old Barbara Frietchie boldly said those words to Stonewall Jackson after proudly displaying the flag from her attic window and Jackson’s Confederate troops had just shot the banner at his command. At risk of her own life, Frietchie would not stand for disrespect of the Union flag!

It used to be that wearing the flag on items such as those I saw at the store would be considered disrespect and desecration. There’s still a little, a very little, debate about the appropriateness of wearing the flag. I can remember when I was a teen in the 70’s that a young man was arrested for wearing a shirt made from flag fabric.

Apparently, societal shifts have brought social acceptance to wearing flag apparel. Covering oneself in the Stars and Stripes is now viewed as patriotic rather than disrespectful. T-shirts with the American flag would make me feel well-dressed at July 4th activities (and on Flag Day for that matter!)

But does anyone know the Standards of Respect due the American Flag?

Some instruction in the etiquette of the American flag, according to www.usaflag.org:

The flag should never be dipped to any person or thing. It is flown upside down only as a distress signal.

When the flag is lowered, no part of it should touch the ground or any other object; it should be received by waiting hands and arms.
To store the flag it should be folded neatly and ceremoniously.

The flag of the United States of America should be at the center and at the highest point of the group when a number of flags of states, localities, or societies are grouped for display.

When used to cover a casket, the flag should be placed with the union at the head and over the left shoulder. It should not be lowered into the grave.

I don’t remember all the Standards of Respect from my social studies class, but I did remember today is Flag Day. So, tell someone you know that today is Flag Day. Your friends just might not know.

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Check Point

2010-06-07T19:11:00.004-04:00

Instinctively I hit the brakes! The next step was to look at my speedometer. Whew! I’m not speeding….this time. Really I’m not speeding most of the time. Well, not too much….you know, the “too much” where you cross the “absolute” line that will get you a ticket. What is that line, something like four miles over the speed limit? (Don’t tell me if it’s more....I’ll stick with four.)

I love policemen, especially since I have friends who are policemen, so why do I have the same reaction every time I see a police car when I’m driving?

Instead of getting nervous, though, I need to remember that the police car sitting in the median is more of a reminder for me. And since all people need reminders from time to time, the goal is accomplished merely by the policeman’s presence. See the police car, check my speed. Good to go.

Seeing the policeman the other day made me wonder about other check points I might have or might need in my life.

That’s why I have a daily time reading my Bible. That’s my spiritual check point. I am a forgetful woman. It could have something to do with having kids….I can’t remember. Daily reading is a great check point for me to check my speed, check my direction, check to see if I’m still on the right road.

Deuteronomy 8.11 Be careful that you do not forget the LORD your God, failing to observe his commands, his laws and his decrees that I am giving you this day.

I also think I need a civic check point. I can tell you the last time I read through the United States Constitution. That would have been September of 2006 when one of my older daughters, Sarah, then a junior in high school, audited an American Government class at a local college. She needed help analyzing the Constitution the first week, so we dissected it together.

But I am forgetful. I think I could quote the preamble (thank you Schoolhouse Rock!) but I only remember a couple of the “famous” amendments from the rest of the document. It’s not that I don’t care. Like I said, I’m forgetful. And busy.

How else, though, am I going to know if and why I agree or disagree with politicians’ actions? How will I know to be concerned about their actions? How will I know when we as a state or nation have crossed the line? Or when I as an individual have crossed the line?

Reviewing our governing documents would serve us all well. I just showed my younger children the Schoolhouse Rock Preamble on YouTube. I will also go to the Tools link on the Re:Vision North Carolina website to review our founding documents for myself and do a better job of passing that information on to my kids.

I want to set up my own check point, and not wait until I see a reminder waiting in the median.

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A Few Steps

2010-06-03T12:01:00.005-04:00

As a somewhat bright, but very timid second-grader, I sat firmly glued to my seat. Having already figured out the riddle, I jittered inside at the thought of approaching Mrs. Miller’s desk to tell her the answer. The answer….which would come with the benefit of a special surprise. The answer….I knew it….all I had to do was take a few steps.

Hesitation. For what seemed like an hour. Then none of it mattered anymore. Sweet little blonde haired Kim went forward and whispered the answer to the teacher. I watched, disappointed in myself, as Mrs. Miller gave Kim the nickel.

Don’t laugh. Back in 1969, five cents bought a full-sized candy bar from the snack cart! And that was a rare treat for a little girl who lived up the “holler.” Taking those few small steps would have made a difference, if only in a small way in my life for that day, but still a difference. That small loss that day taught me a monumental lesson.

Fast forward to 2010. I’m still (debatably) somewhat bright. I am still a little timid, but nothing like the paralyzing shyness in second grade. I might get jittery if I was asked to approach someone in a higher position. But now I know that if I don’t act, I will lose the candy bar.

It was just a couple of months ago that my husband, Mike, and I were having a conversation lamenting the state of politics in general in our country. We think of ourselves as politically informed, but we haven’t been politically active for a long time.

During that discussion, we each decided that even though we don’t know what we can do, we need to do something, take a step or two, however small, to make a difference.

Will it be a phone call? Will it be a knock on a door? Will it be a financial investment? Will it be consistent prayer for those who govern? Will it be some out-of-the-box action? Will it be….? I don’t know which direction my steps will take, but I do know I will take a step.

I’ll walk to the teacher’s desk and share the answer. I’ll seek direction from God, because I don’t want to take a step in any direction which He does not lead.

Psalm 119.05 Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.

After all, it’s not a candy bar at stake this time. And the prize won’t be just for myself. It’s our country that needs involved citizens. My children and grandchildren will benefit from my efforts.

That five cent candy bar I missed out on in second grade now costs 99 cents and I’d probably be bold in going for it, but America is way more valuable, definitely worth me taking a few small steps.

(This is the first in a series that will be posted on the blog at the website Re:Vision North Carolina)

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Thank You for the Snow! Really?

2010-02-25T08:30:00.011-05:00

Walking and praying this morning in the blizzard (or it might have been flurries....hard to tell the difference at this point,) I joined the symphony (well, maybe cacophony) of grumbling people who are tired of cold and snow. My attitude when I stepped out the door was, "Uugghh! I'm so ready for some sunshine and warmth!"

Usually my prayer walk is my time to pour out my heart to God. Then I come back to my house and read His Word to listen to Him speak to me. But since I have learned to be open to God speaking whenever He chooses, I was also listening. Good thing, too, or I might have missed what He was saying during my walk.

"Thank Me for the snow." I think I giggled out loud. At least He wasn't telling me that I'm going to be pregnant when I'm almost 50, truly something I would want to thank Him for. "Thank me for the snow." OK, God, you don't have to tell me twice....well, then again, obviously He does.

"Thank You for the snow," I said aloud. (Actually all my prayers when I am walking are said aloud....keeps me focused.) My giggles waned, but a huge smile jumped on board.

I'm smiling because I'm hearing His voice. It doesn't matter that He's asking something I don't particularly feel like doing. I don't want to be like the kid who thinks, "You can make me say it, but you can't make me mean it."

I want to thank Him gladly because I love my Father and I am thankful that He cares enough about me to speak to me, to refine me. He cares enough to ask me to be thankful for the snow and the sunshine, the births and the deaths, the good times and the hard times, in plenty and in want.

I Thes. 5.16-18 Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

Thank you, God, for the snow. Really!

January Comes

2010-01-10T17:41:00.005-05:00

Long, frigid nights dissolve into gray days. Seemingly lifeless, ebony trees etch a silhouette against the ashen sky while icy air hopelessly struggles to move that which won’t budge. Sparse and brown, the frozen grass crunches to the breaking point as the heavy boots descend time and again. The outlook is bleak. January comes and is here to stay.

My contribution to my descriptive essay assignment to my students lets them know I can still do homework too. (They will get to evaluate it and find my mistakes.) A description of this season and my surroundings, but definitely not where my heart camps out.

My joy is not predicated upon nor negated by my circumstances or surroundings. My joy comes from That which is within.

1 Chronicles 16.27b says it well: Strength and joy are in His dwelling place.

And where is His dwelling place? In me! So there is where my joy originates. My circumstances may at times seem bleak and hope may seemingly be lifeless, but like a pocketful of water, my joy will not be contained.

January may come and January may stay, but the joy of the Lord is everlasting.

.

Only If It's a Special Day

2009-11-07T17:20:00.003-05:00

Aaron Shust was in concert in Raleigh at a church that holds only about 500 people. I'm not much of a concert goer, but I knew two of my daughters would be thrilled to attend. I didn't realize that I knew so many of his songs! Worshipful was the adjective of the night.

Just before intermission, Aaron (we're familiar like that now) and Chris Sligh (from American Idol) began a “commercial” for Compassion International. They asked all who were interested in “just checking out” a child to raise a hand. I didn't raise my hand. But I sat beside my 22 year old Candace who did raise her hand.

Why was she raising her hand? She is in fundraising mode herself, headed for a six month stint with YWAM. And even though one of my spiritual gifts is giving, compassion has long been near the bottom of my list. Kind of ironic, huh?

The ushers gave Candace a packet with the child's picture, birthdate, country and a summary of the personality of the child. She's sitting right beside me, but I am not going to look at that photo. “Oh, look mom, he's so cute. His name is Samuel.” No, not looking, won't look. I know what will happen if I look. I have to stay strong.

“Oh mom. You have to look at this.”

“You can look at it and tell me about it,” I reply.

“Oh, he's soooo cute!” She puts the packet in my lap.

Oops, I looked.

Melting.... Melting.... Faster than the Wicked Witch of the West!

He was so cute. But not as cute as I am strong. But then there's a tug. I knew I shouldn't have looked.

“OK God,” I thought to myself, “if his birthdate is a special date, if it has significance, then I'll know you want us to sponsor him.” I threw out my fleece.

I looked at his birthdate: September 13, 2000. Not much significance about that date. Candace's birthday is September 3rd and Rachael's is September 26th so it was kind of in the middle, but nothing special...really.

Tug. He is so cute. Tug. Oh, he's from Kenya. Tug. He's only 9 years old, about the same age as Joshua. Tug. He lives with his mom and two siblings. Tug. He eats mainly beans, rice and potatoes. Tug....

I couldn't take it anymore. OK God, his birthday has no significance but I can hear you loud and clear. We'll sponsor him!

It made me remember that Gideon used the fleece because he didn't have the Holy Spirit to guide him. I didn't have to wait overnight to find out if the fleece was wet and the ground was dry or if the fleece was dry and the ground was wet. God had spoken directly to my heart. I knew I had to obey.

Candace and Rachael of course were thrilled when I started filling out the paperwork. They couldn't wait to get home and tell Joshua about this new little guy in our prayers and in our lives.

Feeling renewed in so many ways, from the music to the sponsorship, the concert ended and we began walking out.

Rachael, who had been a few seats away from us and hadn't gotten to see the full packet yet, was perusing the information. All of a sudden, with much enthusiasm in her voice, she said, “Hey look! September 13, 2000....today is Samuel's birthday!” Yes, the concert was September 13th.

Tears were in my eyes.....a day of significance, a very special day indeed!

John 14.26 But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.

Thank you God for the Holy Spirit! (And He's probably telling you to go back to the beginning of this post and click on Compassion International....I dare you....it could be a special day!)

Looks Like We Get to Keep the Change

2009-09-18T13:03:00.008-04:00

May as well embrace change. That's seems to be the only constant.

The next change at our house: Candace is leaving in six days (Sept. 24) continuing on a spiritual journey of a lifetime. She'll be attending University of the Nations for a YWAM DTS (Youth With A Mission Discipleship Training School.)

Study will begin in Kona, Hawaii. Not a bad stop on a spiritual journey :-) She'll be there for 12 weeks for intensive Bible and missions instruction, as well as working in some capacity on campus.

Then she'll be headed to Capetown, South Africa for 12 weeks of on-the-job training with a Community Transformations ministry of YWAM, working and serving those in the community.

(In case your math is a little rusty, that's nearly six months away from home. Yes, it means she won't be here for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years or any family celebrations.)

Seasons come and go, things keep changing. But there is a Constant, and I'm so glad, because I will need that as the change keeps coming!

Hebrews 13. 8 Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.

All-Consuming

2009-08-21T15:20:00.002-04:00

My summer has been spent neck-deep in wedding preparations. So many things to look at. So many errands to run. So many decisions to make. The preparations for the Wedding Day were all-consuming!

I awoke most mornings between 5.30 am and 6.00 am without an alarm clock, eyes wide open, mind racing, feet jumping out of bed ready to get started with my day.

Invitations to send out….

Eight bridesmaids dresses to make….

Flowergirl dress....

Tiniest details to attend to…..

Flowers to pick out…..

Menu to plan….

Bride is ready and waiting...

A brain that wouldn’t slow down…..until….

Until I realized that because of my new routine I was glossing over my time with God!

Whoa, Nellie!

False start!

Try again!

I started getting up, still just as early, but went outside for a walk to get a chance to talk with Jesus before I started my day. I came back in, went to my Bible, my message from God and He was faithful to tell me something I needed to hear that day. (The Psalms are great therapy!)

All the hard work for the Wedding Day was worth it! Sarah and Tony were very happy. The day was filled with much joy. Can’t you tell by their faces?

But the process made me think about my preparations for THE Wedding Day, you know, when Jesus comes back for us, His bride. Are the preparations I’m making for that eternal union all-consuming just as they were for the earthly wedding we had just had?

Am I inviting others to join me for that great celebration? Am I encouraging those who are attending the Great Wedding to be “better dressed” for the occasion? Am I checking the details of my heart? Is my mind stayed on Him?

Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting:
"Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns.
Let us rejoice and be glad
and give him glory!
For the wedding of the Lamb has come,
and his bride has made herself ready.
Fine linen, bright and clean,
was given her to wear."
(Fine linen stands for the righteous acts of the saints.)
(Revelation 19.6-8)

I pray your preparations are all-consuming!

To see all wedding photos, go here.

Backwards Feet in a Bathroom Stall

2009-05-17T09:58:00.007-04:00

So I was in a huge hurry with many errands to run. Stood in the long line to return things at WalMart, then parked my cart by the benches outside the public restrooms and zipped in, heading as I always do to the last stall.

Aaah, two glasses of sweet-and-low tea for lunch didn't bother me anymore. The bathroom was empty as I entered, but as I was occupying the last stall, someone came in to the stall next to me.

Weird. Just weird. Big old scrungy blue Converses, dirty and ragged, must have been size 13 and a half! Dirty raggedy jeans bottoms too. But the weirdest part is that the feet were backwards, you know, facing the porcelain bowl. As in standing up to pee....

First thought: Oh my goodness, what kind of weirdo (I actually thought "pervert") is in the stall next to me? I got a little nervous.

Then I got a lot nervous.....as if it were slow motion, it dawned on me that the shoes in the stall next to me were not filled by a weirdo. MY shoes were the ones filled with a weirdo. Yes, I was in the men's bathroom, and I was not alone! (No, I don't have any photos to post.)

How do I exit gracefully? Well, I don't. I come racing out of the stall with my hands serving as blinders on my downward-looking eyes, announcing loudly as there was now more than one other person joining me, "Sorry everybody, I came into the wrong bathroom!"

Loud laughter ensued, but I kept walking briskly. No I did not stop to wash my hands. I exited and immediately made a left turn to go to the women's restroom where I thoroughly washed my hands which were jittering like a drop of water in a skillet.

It's funny the things God uses to speak to me. I suspect He would speak to me in all things if I would listen more.

But this time, He highlighted my critical spirit. Fascinating how I immediately thought the other person was in the wrong, because it certainly couldn't be me. Thinking that I was wrong would be the farthest thing from my mind. Just like my everyday life.

Luke 6.42 How can you say to your brother, 'Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,' when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.

Two things I'm thankful for: 1) I used the liner on the toilet seat. 2) God will speak to me even when (especially when?) I'm in the wrong place.

.

The Gold(en Corral) Standard

2009-05-11T09:02:00.006-04:00

"You know what I really like about eating at Golden Corral?" Mike offered as he and I along with Joshua and Rachael indulged in the all-you-can-eat buffet when we were traveling last week. "I love that I'm one of the skinny ones!"

Of course we all burst out laughing, because under any other circumstances none of us sitting at that table would be called "one of the skinny ones." But using the Gold(en Corral) Standard made us feel so much better about ourselves :-) as we went for that second plate of food.

That's exactly the kind of thinking I had during my first few years of being a Christian. I had always been the compliant first-born and labeled a good child because, compared to many (many, many) other children, I was gold. If others were my standard, then I stacked up pretty well.

The problem is, well, actually the great thing is, that others are not my standard. I don't have a Gold Standard to measure up to, but I have a God Standard, and boy do I fall short! When my sin is revealed being held up to the God Standard, God gives me the desire, along with the strength, to deal with it.

Romans 3.22,23 This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.

Dear God, how I'm thankful for Your Standard in Your Word and in Christ's example. I'm thankful for all the growth that it has brought in my life. Please reveal anything in my life that does not please you.

Remembering....

2009-05-06T13:48:00.006-04:00

Jonathan Basham

05.06.05

Remembering is good, but looking forward, especially to Heaven, is way cooler.

See you then, little guy.

Revelation 21.4 He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.

Replaced the Batteries

2009-04-29T16:13:00.004-04:00

Yep Dena, they died.

You know how you sometimes only have so much money and can only buy so many batteries, then you must choose which items get the batteries? Which ones can you not do without?

I guess in life it’s called priorities or balance, but whatever it is, that’s what I’ve had to do these past couple of months. I’ve had to decide where to put my time and energy because I only had so much to disperse.

I think the older you get, the more life is like a spiral, like the money-grabbing game you put a penny into at the mall. At first it’s a long leisurely circle, you’re just drifting along. Then the closer it gets to the end, the more frantic the penny becomes, racing full speed to the dropoff. That’s where I’ve been.

All the racing has not been bad, and even the things that started out not so good had excellent outcomes. Like my mom’s pancreatic cancer. She came to stay with us in late January for a couple of months after pancreatic surgery at UNC.

The prognosis is excellent as the doctor proclaimed hers a “very well-behaved cancer, slow growing and not spreading.” And the great part was that my mom got to spend eight weeks at our house…getting to know my younger kids better. They really enjoyed having her here and she even taught Rachael how to make Buttermilk Biscuits, a gift that skipped my generation.

Yep, that was definitely the right place to use my limited battery power.

We’ve had birthday celebrations in February and March. We had an engagement in March, which means Sarah and Tony will be married on August 15th of this year.

(Wish I could show you THE dress! That must wait as Tony knows about this blog and he might peek. I just warned him that his knees are going to buckle when he sees Sarah in the dress, and like any love-sick puppy, he said they already do.)

So, batteries have to be put into the Wedding Planner and Mother-of-the-Bride modes.

Ecclesiastes 3.1 There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:

For now, I have a few extra batteries to make this blog work again but I may have to borrow them for something else. Thanks to those who haven’t given up hope.

(And if you’re wondering who Dena is, check out this tickly post….)

Brownie Knife

2009-02-19T08:14:00.012-05:00

I was pleasantly surprised yesterday morning when I got my daily P31 Ministries email devotional. It was the one I had submitted! Check out Brownie Knife.

(Fresh out of the oven! Where's the "scratch and sniff" technology when you need it?)

I thought this might be an appropriate time to share Basham Brownies with you. I'm not much into box brownies, although they will do in a pinch if you add nuts to them. But, then there are some who are not much into homemade brownies. Don't you love having options?

Basham Brownies

(as adapted from

Brooke's Best Bombshell Brownies

on allrecipes.com)

1 cup butter, melted
3 cups sugar

(I like a mixture of white and brown or to add a little molasses to the white)
1 tablespoon vanilla extract

(or almond or rum or coffee flavoring, you choose :-)
4 eggs
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

dash salt
1 1/2 cup dark chocolate chips

(we love dark chocolate chips, but semi-sweet works well too)

(or 1 cup chocolate and 1 cup peanut butter chips....mmmm)

chopped nuts, if you like

Set oven to 350 degrees. I use a Wilton 9X13 metal pan, lightly greased. Combine melted butter, sugars and flavoring. Beat in the 4 eggs until thoroughly mixed.

Stir in flour, cocoa and dash of salt until blended. Add chips, then smooth into prepared pan. Bake 30-35 minutes. I tend towards the 30-31 minute mark to keep them very moist.

Don't forget this part, maybe one of the most important steps

Now go ahead and try the brownie knife!

Give Me Words to Speak

2009-01-21T09:49:00.006-05:00

What do you say about 25 years? When I turned 25 years old, I remember thinking that my life had no purpose because it’s been a quarter of a century already and what had I accomplished?

Well, I had graduated high school (the first in my family to do so,) graduated college, had a pretty good job, owned a home, and had gotten married. But even then I was searching for significance, not success as defined by the world. Twenty-five years at that time seemed like forever.

Now, 25 years seems like a blip, or a more accurate term would be bliss. Wedded bliss, that is. Michael Kevin Basham and I have been married for 25 years today! Now, there’s significance for you!

God opened up the heavens and rained down grace unimaginable when He gave us to each other. There’s no way that 25 years has passed. I guess time really does fly when you’re having fun.

A friend told me recently that I have a perfect marriage, at least the most perfect one that she knows. And I have to agree with her. I think our marriage is as close to perfect as one can get.

Not that I’m a perfect woman (though Mike says I’m really close) married to a perfect man (I think he’s really close) but that we both are close to the Perfect One and we allow Him to work in us and through us for the benefit of each other.

Yes, we disagree. But we agree to look to God for the resolution. Yes, we get mad. But we forgive each other quickly with God’s help. Yes, we’re both selfish. But we agree to put the other’s needs ahead of our own.

We love. A love that’s extremely easy most days, but on rare days it’s definitely a hard choice. We laugh. Not at each other, but with each other. (If you want to see some of the things that make us laugh, check out Tim Hawkins.)

We also cry. Together. We work to make sure the hard things unite us as we cling ever closer to Christ, and in turn that brings us ever closer to each other.

This is the scripture that we had printed on the napkins we used at our wedding reception. It encapsulates our marriage to this day:

Ecclesiastes 4.12b A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

Mr. & Mrs. Michael Basham

January 21, 1984

I still like to watch him. It makes me smile to watch him when he doesn’t know. It also makes my heart overflow. I can’t believe how incredibly blessed I am.

I love to see his smile. He can smile at me from across the room and I feel so loved. I always feel like he is thrilled to see me. Michael is the epitome of how a man should love his wife as Christ loves the church.

What do you say about 25 years? I’m not really sure, but I’d like at least another 25 years with Michael to come up with something.

I'm Glad Dave's Not God

2009-01-14T13:07:00.008-05:00

One chance! Only one chance! That means the rooster didn’t really have a chance at all. When Dave brought the rooster home to their urban farm, Mitzi had concerns about having a rooster in the middle of town.

All the other chickens they had were noiseless hens, laying eggs and clucking ever so softly. And having chickens inside the town limits had been approved by the town council because of this family’s example. But roosters in the mix might jeopardize that.

So Dave assured Mitzi that the first time the rooster crowed in their yard, the animal formerly known as rooster would simply be known then as that day’s dinner!

Well, you guessed it. The rooster crowed! It happened to be a day when my daughter was sleeping over. We called to say we were coming to pick her up, but Mitzi asked if Rachael could please stay a little longer so she could join in the neck-wringing festivities.

OK, I said yes, but all the while I was thinking Rachael would be pretty nasty to take to the movie we were planning to head to after we picked her up. But I still said yes.

Later, after we picked her up, I asked her how the circle of life went. She reported that Dave had decided to wait until the next day because the rooster had just been fed and the process of cleaning said dinner would make too much a mess unless the fowl was emptied of all the foul stuff first.

So Dave gave a reprieve so as not to be inconvenienced with the mess.

I really am glad Dave’s not God. God forgives me over and over, the same crowing I do over and over. Because He loves me. Not because it’s convenient or inconvenient.

I’m not judging Dave. I’m sure I would have had a similar stipulation if I were inclined to have roosters and lived in the town limits. That makes me glad that I’m not God either, no matter how hard I try sometimes!

Psalm 130.3-4a “If you, O LORD, kept a record of sins, O Lord, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness.”

1 John 1.9 “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”

Second chances with God are not hard to come by. But with Dave.....well, Mitzi tells me the rooster was delicious.

Don't Leave Him There

2009-01-05T14:13:00.016-05:00

Maybe your household is like mine. My kids love to help put up Christmas decorations, but when it's time to take them down, they have made themselves scarce.

This is why I found myself alone putting away our Nativity set that spans the length of our credenza. Each little piece must be wrapped to avoid breaking, and each large piece has its own styrofoam sarcophagus-type enclosure so it's much like putting together a puzzle.

The kids set it up and did a lovely job. But since they set it up, I really didn't get a chance to reflect on the cast of characters and what that scene must really have been like. I did have solitude in the packing up, though, so I was free to speculate on the thoughts and feelings of those involved.

One thing came to mind that is not speculation. The last human figure I was placing in the box was that of Sweet Baby Jesus Himself and I thought of how He was going to rest in that manger for the next 11 months.

So different from the real Sweet Baby Jesus who came for one purpose.

Peter preached it best:

Acts 2.22-24 Men of Israel, listen to this: Jesus of Nazareth was a man accredited by God to you by miracles, wonders and signs, which God did among you through him, as you yourselves know. This man was handed over to you by God's set purpose and foreknowledge; and you, with the help of wicked men, put him to death by nailing him to the cross. But God raised him from the dead, freeing him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on him.

And the people responded:

Acts 2.36-38 Therefore let all Israel be assured of this: God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ.
When the people heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and the other apostles, "Brothers, what shall we do?"
Peter replied, "Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off—for all whom the Lord our God will call.

Three thousand people decided that day they would not leave Jesus in the manger. He was now their Christ and Lord.

So pack away your porcelain Nativity figurines and make sure Sweet Baby Jesus is nestled all snug in His manger.

But for real life, don't leave Him there this year. Spend time with Him every day. Get to know Him more. He's all grown up now and I think you'll love having that relationship. I think you'll love who you can become by your association with Him.

The Battle or the War?

2008-12-17T14:31:00.002-05:00

I want to win both, thanks for asking. Especially when it comes to my kids.

In the end, the war seems to matter most, but each individual battle has it's own potential victories and defeats and then consequences of either.

The particular battle I had yesterday with Joshua had to do with school, but it could have been anything else. It could have been his hair. It could have been his recollection of my exact words. It could have been green or purple. Really, with this strong-willed boy, it could have been anything else. But it was school.

Since I homeschool, this is a battle that makes me shiver when I see the inevitability of it all. Joshua is very bright and especially has an aptitude for math, so one would think he could have reasoned the conclusion when he waged the battle. One would be wrong.

After breakfast and our Advent devotional, Rachael got started on her workbook material while I was going over some math word problems with Joshua. He disagreed with my explanation of the first word problem. He is bright, but he is seven! His temper got the best of him, so he was sent to his room with instructions to come back downstairs when his attitude improved.

After about 20 minutes, I decided to check on him. He was just lying in bed, as there are no electronics in his room, only books and a few toys. Lying in bed was not accomplishing much, so I had him come back downstairs. His mood had improved, but he did not want to get back to his school work because he was "hungry." Never mind that he had eggs, grits and toast less than one hour before. (Yes, he has a wonderful mother.)

I then told him, "You will not eat anything else until you feed your brain and do your schoolwork." There it was. My cannon shot back. The battle is on.

With a little grin on his face, thinking he was getting away with something, he said, "I'm not really hungry anyway."

"You will be later."

"But you'll forget."

"Oh, no I won't."

Then Rachael felt the need to give Joshua some strategic sisterly advice, "Oh, Joshua, I know who will win."

"Who?" he asks, as if he really needs to ask!

"Mom will.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."

The battle continued, though pretty much amicably, until around 4 pm when he conceded, did his work pages and was allowed to have a piece of toast left over from breakfast and a Cutie clementine.

I won that time, but the battle has given me much food for thought for the long war ahead. It's my job to help my son learn how to put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature. Col. 3.5

I'm glad Joshua and I are ultimately on the same side! He is a formidable foe.

He Would Have Been Three

2008-11-25T06:57:00.007-05:00

He was due October 1, 2005. He arrived way too early for my plans on May 6, 2005 at about 20 weeks. But he was just on time for God's perfect plan. He was 8 1/2 inches long, weighed 10 ounces and was fully a little boy. I remember vividly that he even had the shape of his daddy's mouth.

Never had I been through so rough a journey. I was sad. I was mad. This was the first pregnancy I had without the aid of fertility drugs. Why give a gift if you're just going to abruptly snatch it back? I was mad at God, even to the point of wanting to turn my back on Him. I'm so glad He didn't turn His back on me.

My hard journey only served to highlight the contrast between the light and the darkness. God brought me through to the other side of grief where I am sincerely joyful for my son. God has brought me to a place where all that I truly want is to be where He wants me, doing whatever He wants me to do.

One of the things that I'm obedient in (finally!) is writing. I submitted my very first devotional to Proverbs 31 Ministries and it was accepted! Exciting, but humbling! But I know I'm being obedient to his call.

1 Peter 4.11 If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God. If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen.

A couple of resources that were extremely helpful in setting my mind on the eternal during my journey of grief were the books Through a Season of Grief by my friend Kathy Leonard, also a former North Waker and Heaven by Randy Alcorn. Through Mr. Alcorn's research of scripture, he was able to paint a picture that helped me know that Jonathan is truly in a better place.

He would have been three, though, and I still miss him.

.

From There to Here

2008-11-23T17:26:00.014-05:00

Whoa! What happened? How did we get from there to here? And in such a rush? That's what I think when I see my first-born, Sarah, who did look like this just yesterday morning when she was 19 months old.....

We woke up this morning and found out she's been 19 years old since May.....

She's traded in her blue hoodie for blue hair.....look carefully, it's there. She's got style despite the fact that she was homeschooled! The hair changes are frequent since she is employed at Douglas Carroll Salon after completion of her cosmetology program.

Hair is not the only thing that's changed as Sarah has grown up. She doesn't suck her thumb anymore.

But she does still have her blankie....the comforter I made from white eyelet fabric to complete a handmade crib set so I'd have it for all my children. Sarah latched on and carried that big, bulky blankie everywhere, even to the blueberry fields. She carried it to Belarus on a three week trip when she was 15. It is now in shreds but she still sleeps with it. None of my other children ever used it.

The blankie is not the only constant in Sarah. I so admire her ability to hold her tongue, even when others, including her mother, don't hold theirs. She is a quick thinker, so I know she could retort in a flash. But she doesn't. That makes it easier in some ways for a mom raising a daughter, especially through the teenage years. But it sure does challenge a mom when the daughter is doing a better job than she.

Proverbs 15.1 A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.

Dear God, I thank you for Sarah's ability to answer softly and sometimes not answer at all, and I thank you that our journey from there to here has been such a pleasant one. May all her days be blessed, and may she continue to be a picture of your grace.

One Candle Fell Off

2008-10-28T12:04:00.011-04:00

Why am I so easily distracted? By silly stuff?

Sunday we had a lovely service at North Wake Church with white candles burning and filling the stage with light. White candles of all sizes and shapes with simplistic beauty. There was such a worshipful attitude even upon entering the worship center (actually, sanctuary would be a better word to use for this day.)

Candle groupings were everywhere, seemingly random groupings, but also some symmetrical ones, especially the votives that sat on either side of the "T" of the large rough-hewn wooden cross that graces the back wall. The music as always was great and drew us further into worship.

Then...one candle fell off. Not just any candle. It was a candle that sat on the right side of the cross. It left a big gap. No more symmetry on the cross. I was annoyed with the open space, but also kept watching the bottom of the cross to see if flames were going to erupt that might cause the worship team to evacuate the stage.

As much as I love symmetry (can you spell OCD?) I may not have noticed if I had not seen the candle fall. Right in the middle of the song. It was one of those "look around and see if anyone else saw it" moments. I should have had my eyes closed. I should have focused more. But now I was distracted. Mostly I was distracted by my annoyance that the gap was there, but I was also distracted by a potential fire that might happen.

I had to ask for forgiveness.

Something so silly had taken my focus off worship. It made me think of the things in everyday life that "make" me take my eyes off Jesus. I say that my focus is on Christ and His will for my life, but then stuff happens. I homeschool, the kids argue, I commit to too much, there are many chores (that I don't get to,) and don't forget this new thing called blogging. Before you know it, I have short-changed my quiet time with a five or ten minute glance rather than really spending time digesting God's Word, causing me to be more and more out of focus.

Colossians 3.1-2 Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.

Fortunately, Justin the Intern who spoke that day was quite engaging (no small feat for an intern) and drew me right back to where I needed to be. But I'm still more than a little ashamed that my worship of my Creator suffered Sunday morning all because one candle fell off.

I Would Have Picked Them

2008-10-26T18:24:00.008-04:00

My in-laws, Ron and Sue, are nowhere to be found in this crew, but the picture was taken in their backyard on a hot July day in 2007. The first thing that comes to my mind when I see this photo is how well my in-laws love. They love their grandchildren. They love their children. They love their sons-in-law. And they love their favorite (well, only) daughter-in-law, a term which they revised almost 25 years ago to be daughter-in-love.

They love people they know and they love people they don't know. One is immediately accepted by them simply by the virtue that one is living and breathing.

Sarah at Hashbrowns issued an intriguing assignment. She asked those who read her blog to post the sixth photo from their sixth folder (for some reason that reminds me of the Sheena Easton lyrics from the 80's "You're the seventh son of the seventh son...." ...long time ago...anyway...) This is the photo that won that lottery.

The kiddos in the pic are 57% mine....the two tall ones back left and the two short ones front right. The other three are cousins, but not all grandchildren of my in-laws. But you know what? It doesn't matter to them that we bring extra children along. In fact, when we do they are treated like family. It doesn't matter to my in-laws that one of the other children is from my side of the family. They are genuinely happy to have a "family portrait" that includes any of God's creations. They show love to all they meet!

I've witnessed that over and over again, beginning with their acceptance of me when Mike first took me home to meet them. I've witnessed it as they accepted our adoptive daughter during her very first visit to our home when adoption wasn't even on the radar yet. They have accepted my little brother, my nephews, the kids we kept each summer from Belarus, and my niece in the picture. Each one of them was welcomed enthusiastically to the family.

They are a true picture of God's acceptance of us, and so a witness to all who meet them. There are lots of great qualities about Ron and Sue and this is just one of them that, again, immediately came to mind when I saw the sixth picture in my sixth folder.

I'm so glad they had Mike and raised him to be the man of God, the man of character that he is today, and I have always told friends and family that if I were looking for in-laws instead of a husband, I would have picked them.

What's your story about the sixth picture in your sixth folder?

Crispy Socks

2008-10-13T10:38:00.014-04:00

Not to be confused with Krispy Kremes...one you want, the other you don't....actually, come to think of it, at my weight I'd rather have the socks...

Last Monday (yes, I'm a slow poster) as I was helping Joshua clean his room, he suddenly yelled in disgust, "Ugh, mom! Crispy socks!" He found them hidden behind his perpetually open closet door. Left over from football, no doubt. They had once been wet and muddy, but were now dried and stiff and were, well, "crispy."

So we talked about what happens when things get hidden and don't get cleaned the way they should. We then talked about how our hearts get "crispy" sometimes when we ignore what God tells us is the right thing to do. Or sometimes we let the muddy and wet sin get hidden, and we just forget about that it's wrong because it's been there so long.

Just as we found the "crispy socks" hidden behind the closet doors because we were looking for things to clean, I told Joshua that's one of the things we need to pray to God about. We need to pray and ask God to show us any part of our heart that might be getting "crispy" and then ask God to help clean it. We need to ask Him to show us our sin because we do not want a crispy heart.

I love "shema-mmy moments" (pronounced shmommy), and yes, I just made the term up so I won't have to explain it next time I write about these teachable moments when we can do what Deuteronomy 6.6-9 says:

These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.

This part of the Jewish shema (rhymes with ma with a sh in front of it) is a plan for passing along our faith to our kids all the time....which means God's commands must be on our hearts and minds all the time.

No pressure.........but is that a "crispy sock" I see?

I Told You So

2008-10-09T19:40:00.004-04:00

I told you my Rachael is creative. Here are some photos from the budding photographer. She is wanting to submit some nature photos to a kids' contest, so she took tons. I can't help but think of Hashbrowns when as I post the flowers.

These, and many more, were taken at in the garden at The Hermitage, the home of our seventh president, Andrew Jackson, near Nashville, TN.

Sweets Made By the Sweetie!

2008-10-07T08:53:00.000-04:00

Creativity is something eleven year old Rachael enjoys. She spent a Saturday afternoon at her Mama Basham's house and, to her joy, got to practice decorating cakes. Mama is a pro, and she's passed down her cake decorating talent gene to Rachael. Rachael completed this all herself. And, yes, it tasted as yummy as it looks.

But it wasn't as sweet as Rachael!

Are You Ready For Some Football?

2008-09-15T17:34:00.000-04:00

I’ve always been a huge non-fan of sports, especially football. It makes no sense to me, and I’ve never even wanted it to. (And don't get me started on "student athletes" in our college systems.) My husband tells everyone that I root for the clock. And how long are those football minutes anyway?

But gradually over the last two months, football is starting to get to me. Does it have something to do with this guy?

He’s seven (and a half!) and lives for playing tackle football. Saturday morning was his first game at 9:00 am. He was quite giddy when he went to bed the night before, just squealing with delight that seven year old boys can still do.

He was so excited, he was out of bed by 4:30 am. Fortunately he went to Rachael’s room first, but landed in our room just before 5:00 am. Mike finally asked him at 5:30 if he would like to go downstairs and watch some football. A loud yes (as in finally, something) and he jumped out of our bed and went downstairs with dad for the next two hours before he had to leave.

I’ve never seen this kid have so much energy. He played the entire game. His team, the Saints, lost by mere inches really, 13-7. Even in defeat, you couldn’t stop the smile! He is already looking forward to next Saturday.

On the way home he matter of factly announced that when he is grown, he will play in the Super Bowl. And I know at least one fan who will do everything she can to help him get there.

I’m Proud of My Daughter

2008-09-07T21:27:00.001-04:00

Turning 21 is a milestone! The parents and the child have all survived (albeit sometimes barely) the teen saga, and life starts to make a little more sense….a little more. Direction may or may not be there, but the foundations of who you are and who you will be have been laid. This is how parents view this milestone.

Taking those foundations for granted, though, could be a mistake. Our oldest daughter, who is also our oldest child, turned 21 this week. We are planning a nice family dinner to celebrate whenever it works it her schedule.

What I didn’t realize, though, until now, is how her peers view this milestone. My daughter mentioned to me about how many of her friends have asked her if she planned to get drunk to celebrate. In their view, she is now of legal age to do this, so it is a rite of passage. (And as is the case of some of them, she is old enough to buy alcohol to pass along to them, her underage friends.) She then proceeded to tell me how stupid she thought that was.

She came home confused last night by the gift she received from two of her Christian friends….a Tic-Tac-Toe drinking game set that involves shot glasses with X’s and O’s. I have to admit I was confused too, and I want to point out that she arrived home early and sober.

Had I known this was the prevailing attitude towards turning 21, I would have given her warning. Had I known, I could have been praying specifically for her protection and the protection of her friends through this time. But she did great even without my warning. And although extra prayers never hurt, she did great by praying for strength and wisdom on her own.

She thinks because she has a very difficult time in her college classes that she’s not smart. I think she is one of the wisest 21 year olds I know to recognize the folly of poor choices at any age.

I am proud of my daughter.

LOVED - My She Speaks Experience

2008-07-05T14:05:00.000-04:00

I sat and stared at the laminated Scripture card I held in my hand. That verse in no way relates to the fear and doubt I had written on my response card that was now lying beneath the wooden cross where I had made the trade: response card with my doubts written on it traded for laminated card that had reassuring Scripture that God would use to speak to me about those doubts and fears.

Being a woman who friends describe with words like “steady” and “calm,” I’m not overly emotional and I was never a big fan of the weeping sessions that take place at women’s events. Mostly I just avoided going to the conferences and retreats in the first place. But She Speaks seemed different. I was confident God had something there for me to learn. I should not have been surprised that I would end up knowing Him better, and learning how well He knows me.

So, the laminated Scripture card…. As I had written my doubts on the response card, I had written a secondary fear, maybe even tertiary. I could not bring myself to write my primary doubt, as the entire weekend conference had brought message after message addressing that doubt. Pride prevented me from writing that doubt down, since with all the teaching I’d heard, that doubt should have been decimated, annihilated, demolished, destroyed, killed, massacred, butchered, slaughtered, and whatever other forceful synonymous verbs there are in the thesaurus. The teaching was that good!

But, the laminated Scripture card….I looked at the verse and read it again. “You are precious and honored in my sight, and I love you.” (Isaiah 43.4a) The tears fell fast and furious. Didn’t see that coming! I realized that God was not speaking to my secondary fear that I had written on the card, but to the fear that always crept to the top of the heap in my heart. God knew my heart!

Growing up in backwoods West Virginia was not that bad. I didn’t know I was poor until I was old enough to go to school and found out all the other kids had indoor plumbing instead of an outhouse. And they had running water instead of a well with a bucket. They probably didn’t have cardboard walls either, but there was no way for me to know as I was never ever invited to a birthday party or sleepover.

God did, however, gift me with the ability to succeed in school. And He did allow me to be born into a loving family. But once you think of yourself as a second class citizen, those feelings are hard to shake, and here at the conference they were again worming their way to the surface. I will never be as useful as the other women here. Why would God even want to try to use me as a speaker and writer?

The laminated Scripture card….there it was, “You are precious and honored in my sight, and I love you.” Precious and honored. Me! Highly valued. Esteemed in God’s sight. Precious enough for Him to give His only Son. Precious enough that He wants to know me and spend time with me. I am precious enough for Him to use this ordinary woman to do extraordinary things for Him….through whatever avenues He will use in the future. In a word, I am LOVED.